Double Trouble: 1993
by Loki Mischeif-Maker
Summary: AU. Sirius Black has broken out of Azkaban in search of the rat that landed him there. Regulus Black returned from hiding in France to keep his brother from doing something stupid. There's a conflict of interests, but family has to mean something, right?
1. Little Whinging

**Disclaimer:** Y'all know the drill. I do not own any of the characters, settings, or plot devices you recognize, those are JK Rowling's. Please don't sue.

**Author's Note:** Hullo, all. Been awhile since I wrote fan fic, hasn't it? But this AU has been hounding me for awhile now, so I finally sat down and wrote it. You can think of it as the revised edition of Last of the Line, if you wish. Anyway, FYI this first chapter takes place right after the Knight Bus scene of PoA, so you can orient yourselves appropriately. Cheers! — Loki

* * *

Sirius Black shook his head as he watched the Knight Bus pull away, trying to convince himself that startling the boy like that had been doing him a favor. At least this way Harry had thrown out his arm and wand and called the bus. There were dangers anywhere at night, after all, and growing up with Lily's sister he probably didn't know about the wizarding bus system. The Knight Bus would at least keep him out of real trouble.

"That," a voice announced behind him, "was incredibly stupid. He could have gotten seriously hurt."

Sirius whirled around, his hackles rising. A man Sirius was sure hadn't been there moments before was leaning against a nearby tree, watching him. He was perhaps thirty and rather short and slim, with black hair in need of a trim and round glasses. While he was dressed casually in Muggle clothes, there was something familiar about him, and he spoke to Sirius as if he knew the dog was really a man.

"I thought I might find you here, Sirius," the man continued. "Around Harry."

Sirius started to back away slowly. He didn't like where this was going— not if the man knew his name and that he'd gone to Little Whinging because that was where Harry was.

"I swear, if you try to flee like a stray dog I'm going to either stun you or use the full body bind," the man snapped. He drew a wand out of his jacket.

Sirius didn't waste time wondering how a thirteen-inch wand fit in the inside pocket of someone's jacket. He ran.

"_Petrificus Totalus_."

Sirius dropped to the ground and rolled into the bushes, unable to even move his tail. Footsteps told him the man was coming closer. Sirius was rolled gently out of the bushes and back onto the sidewalk, and the man grabbed his ruff before muttering the counter curse. "God, you're _bony_," he muttered as Sirius struggled against his grip. "And I'll bet you didn't even eat between Azkaban and Surrey. Now, let's see if I can remember this. . . ."

Blue light flashed. Sirius felt his body lengthening involuntarily and becoming human again. Evidently someone else saw the flash, because a light in a nearby house turned on. The man now had a grip on the collar of Sirius's robes, and when he saw the light he yanked his captive into the bushes. They stopped against the wooden fence of someone else's yard.

After a moment, the light in the window turned off again.

"Good," the man muttered. "They didn't see us."

Sirius tried to yank out of his grip, but the man held on tightly. He may have been small, but he certainly wasn't weak. "Gerroff," Sirius growled, not really expecting any reply.

"If you promise not to run," his captor replied.

Unable to see any way out of it, Sirius nodded.

The other man let go, and Sirius sat up, loosening his collar.

"Remember, I'm the one with a wand. Are you all right?" the man added, leaning against the fence and watching Sirius rub his neck with some concern.

"Fine," he grumbled.

"Good." The man leaned against the wall and shoved his glasses back up on his nose, still regarding Sirius critically. "First things first— _did_ you eat between Azkaban and Surrey?"

"Once."

The man sighed theatrically and started digging through a pocket. "Leave it to my big brother to escape from wizarding prison and come barreling south without so much as stopping for a bite to eat. . . ."

Sirius blinked. While he'd thought the man looked familiar, and in some ways like looking into a mirror, that statement was ridiculous. "You can't be," he said softly.

The man looked up and raised an eyebrow. "I can't be _what_, pray tell?"

"Regulus," Sirius answered, and shuddered. This man _did_ look remarkably like his brother, down to the quizzical expression and kind of spectacles. "Regulus was killed thirteen years ago on Voldemort's orders because he tried to back out of the Death Eaters."

The man shrugged. "Do I _look_ dead to you?" he asked dryly.

Sirius shook his head. "But you _can't_ be Regulus.. . . ."

"How many little brothers d'you have?" Regulus demanded sensibly, shaking Sirius by the shoulder. "And anyway, my body was never found, was it? I faked my own death. Nott's an idiot. I knew you were no Death Eater because I was one and I would know your voice _anywhere_. And let's face it, Sirius, only James Potter and Remus Lupin knew you better than I did. Pettigrew didn't even have that honor."

Sirius nodded in reluctant defeat. "All right," he croaked, "for the purposes of this conversation, I'll accept you're my brother. How did you avoid getting killed, then?"

"The same way you got out of Azkaban. Because I'm an Animagus," Regulus answered. He returned to digging through his pockets.

"When'd you become on of those?" Sirius demanded. "And when did you find out I was one?"

"I found out only a couple months after Lupin did, because you were always too reckless and I knew you were up to something. I became one your seventh year, actually. I wanted to keep an eye on you. A few other people, too, but mostly you. I couldn't do it as a human, at least not out of school."

"You made a damn good spy even when we were kids."

Regulus looked up with a grin. "I'll take that as a compliment, actually. Anyway, Nott's an idiot and he thought he'd gotten me. He was never very good at the killing curse anyway, so he preferred to blow people sky high." He handed Sirius something wrapped in tinfoil. "Sandwich? I couldn't remember if it was you or Dad that couldn't stand spam, but I was in a bit of a hurry."

Just now Sirius was hungry enough to eat anything. "Frankly, I can't remember, either," he admitted. "So what _is_ your Animagus form?"

Regulus shrugged. "Three guesses."

Sirius looked up from the sandwich in disgust. "I always hated this game."

"That's because I always won. And with your gang at school, Lupin probably always won, too. But still, how well d'you know me? Three guesses."

Sirius groaned. "A snake?"

Regulus rolled his eyes. "Were you trying to bait me or was that a serious guess?" he demanded.

"A little of both," Sirius answered, shoving the last of the sandwich into his mouth. After he'd swallowed, he added, "Didn't think it'd jab at a Slytherin too much, though."

"Shut up," Regulus suggested. "It's not as if I'm Slytherin himself. And anyway, now you're just being pigheaded. I won't count that one."

Sirius actually thought about another answer. _It'd have to be something generally thought of as silent_, he decided. "A cat?"

"No."

"An owl?"

"Since when have I been anyone's message boy?" Regulus wanted to know.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Reggie, it's been thirteen years since I even thought you were alive. Nearly fourteen since we last spoke."

"You have one more guess," Regulus answered with a shrug. "Then I'll tell you."

"I really don't _know_," Sirius snapped, balling up the tinfoil and chucking it at his little brother. He no longer doubted this was Regulus. Only Regulus could get on his nerves so quickly. Well, James could've when he wanted to, but . . . James was dead. "A moose."

"Now I _know_ you're just being stupid." Regulus grinned slightly. "A fox, actually."

"You?"

"_Sirius_. . . ." Regulus shook his head. "I haven't quite worked out how I ended up a fox myself, honestly. But anyway, why'd you get out? Other than the dementors, obviously."

Sirius sighed. "Fudge inspected Azkaban a couple of months ago. He gave me his paper. And there on the front page—"

"Pettigrew," Regulus interrupted. "I'd been getting the _Daily Prophet _under a pseudonym. I saw him, too. Or at least, a rat that looked familiar. The four've you have never been far from my mind, so I couldn't help but wonder. But I thought you'd killed him."

Sirius scowled. "I _tried_."

Regulus sighed and started toying with his glasses. Sirius knew his brother well enough to know from that alone he was nervous. He had never stopped playing with them the last time the two had seen each other or held a conversation, the day Regulus had told Sirius what he'd been up to in the month since he graduated. "I really should have told you he was one," he whispered.

Sirius stared at him in surprise. "You _knew_?" he demanded hoarsely.

"Don't look at me like that, Sirius. You had told me you never wanted to see me again, and at seventeen I was just petty and bitter enough to take you at your word. Besides, I'd been in France six months by the time it was the Potters' lives in the balance." Regulus shrugged and shook his head. "I didn't think it would take something like their deaths for you or Lupin or them to figure it out in your own time."

For a few minutes the two of them just sat there, hidden by the bushes and leaning against a wall. "So where've you been for the past thirteen years?" Sirius asked softly, mostly to break the silence.

"Trekking across most of Europe in the guise of either a tourist or a fox," he admitted. "Well, other than the four or five years I spent trying to be a Muggle in France. Never quite mastered the language."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "You never came out of hiding?"

"I'm supposed to be _dead_, Sirius," Regulus reminded him. "Or have you already forgotten the way you panicked when I said you were my big brother? I could hardly come back out in the open."

Sirius snorted, and silence resumed. After some time Sirius wondered if they were going to spend the night hiding in the bushes, waiting for the other one to say something.

"Why'd you come back to Britain, then?" he asked softly.

"To reconcile with you, I s'pose. Or just to keep you out of trouble," Regulus answered quietly, not looking at Sirius. "You _are _my brother. I made a stop at London on my way here, just after I crossed the channel. Mum and Dad are dead, which I guess makes you the only family I've got left." His voice dropped even lower, and for a moment the collected man Regulus had become reverted to the frightened five-year-old that used to go running into his brother's room every time he heard thunder. "I never wanted you to hate me, Sirius."

Sirius hesitated. He'd been sixteen the last time he'd done much but shout at Regulus. After a moment, though, he reached over and squeezed his brother's shoulder. "I don't," he whispered. "At least, not anymore."

Regulus nodded. "Are you going to Hogwarts after Pettigrew?" he asked, suddenly the collected adult again.

"Hell yes, I'm going after Peter," Sirius answered. "Are you coming with me, then?"

Regulus smiled slightly. "Hey, someone has to keep you out of trouble."

Sirius chuckled and got to his feet, becoming the black dog as he did so. After a moment he looked back to see that Regulus had also transformed, into a scrappy-looking gray fox. Inwardly, he grinned— his brother had changed a lot, but he certainly didn't think that was a bad thing.

The two canines nodded to each other and Sirius started down the street, Regulus half-running to keep up.


	2. On the Road

"You're in the Muggle papers," Regulus announced, reentering the clearing and proffering the headline. "Well, that was in some ways how I knew you'd gotten out— first time I'd willingly gotten into a conversation with someone who knew even less English than I did French, but I would have thought that after two weeks the news would have cooled down in the Muggle papers."

Sirius took the paper and glanced at the headline. "Maybe somebody saw me or something," he muttered, flipping to page three to read the article. "Yeah, someone thinks they saw me. But it wasn't me," he added quickly as Regulus opened his mouth. "We were thirty miles away yesterday."

"_Still_," Regulus muttered, shaking his head.

"Besides," Sirius added, setting the paper back on the ground, "I thought you'd gone into that village to get food."

Regulus tossed him the loaf of bread he'd been carrying. "I did. But I also wanted to know how much they know about you— or at least how much they've told the Muggles."

Sirius shook his head and started to fight with the tie on the package. "So what's a gun?" he asked absently.

"Huh?"

"That thing they've told the prime minister I'm armed with." He muttered a curse at the plastic bag.

Startled to know something about Muggles that Sirius didn't— it was the first time in his life Regulus could remember that happening— Regulus explained. He also took the bread out of Sirius's hands and undid the tie for him. "You do realize that the closer we get to Hogwarts, the less likely you are to convince me to go into a village, right? I'm not going into Hogsmeade for a loaf of bread," he added as he handed it back.

Sirius shrugged.

Regulus flipped idly through the paper, glancing through the article about Sirius and the weather forecasts. "There is one thing I still don't understand," he said quietly. "I haven't wanted to ask you about it."

"Out with it, Reggie," Sirius snapped.

"What happened with Pettigrew twelve years ago?" Regulus demanded. "Even I thought you'd killed him— you were certainly angry enough to do so."

Sirius sighed and pulled an old copy of the _Daily Prophet_ out of his robes. "Peter blew up the street and transformed. Even I'm not entirely sure what he did. Anyway, he cut off his finger just as it happened— if you look close he's missing a toe. . . ."

Regulus examined the picture. "Someone outsmarted you," he muttered under his breath. "There's a first." He poked the rat in the photograph, making it move a little on the page. It _was_ missing a toe on a front paw, and anyway he didn't think Sirius would mistake Pettigrew, not after everything he'd been through.

He handed his brother back the paper. "So . . . you kill Peter Pettigrew. Then what?"

Sirius looked up in surprise. "To tell you the honest truth, Reggie, I haven't gotten that far yet."

Regulus sighed. "You know, Mum was wrong. 'Rash' does _not_ say it all, in fact it does not even _begin_ to describe what you do."

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "I presume you'll explain sooner or later," he commented after a minute's silence.

"Three weeks before your sixteenth birthday, you finally lost it with Dad, packed your trunk, and ran off to James Potter's. If you had any idea what you were doing after the summer, I don't know you. The school year before you told Severus Snape about that knot on the Whomping Willow. If you had any idea what you were going to do when he got himself killed doing what you told him, again I don't know you— fortunately James Potter had enough sense to make sure you never had to find out."

"Just a minute, there," Sirius started, waving a hand as if he could dismiss the evidence. "I didn't honestly think he'd be stupid enough to take me at my word—"

"Why not? It was the truth." Regulus leaned back against the trunk of a tree with a groan. "Now you have gone through all the trouble of breaking out of prison to wring the neck of the rat that landed you there . . . and you don't know what you'll do afterwards?"

"Reggie, really . . . no, you're right. Any suggestions?" Sirius asked, tossing him the loaf. "I assume you haven't eaten either?"

"I have probably had less to eat than you have this past week, on the theory that you need it more," Regulus pointed out, reaching into the bag. "Well, as for suggestions, you could always take Pettigrew alive."

Sirius didn't say anything. On one level, Regulus didn't blame him. On another, he thought his brother was behaving like an idiot. "It would prove you didn't kill him," he pointed out. "And there are ways— veritaserum, among others— to prove what really happened on that street . . . and the previous night."

Sirius shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair, wincing as he pushed his fingers through the mats. "Reggie. . . ."

"You of all people know there are worse fates than death," Regulus whispered.

A shudder ran through Sirius, and Regulus wasn't sure whether or not he regretted that statement. He reached over and took hold of his brother's arm. "Are you all right?"

"Fine," Sirius answered without conviction. He drew his knees into his chest but still didn't look up. "You're right, though. If anyone deserves Azkaban, it's Peter."

Regulus smiled grimly. "I thought you might see it that way. Shall we keep going?"

Sirius nodded and got to his feet.

* * *

"I still can't believe I'm letting you do this," Sirius muttered, eyeing the scissors in Regulus's hand apprehensively.

"Yeah, yeah, we've been through this before," Regulus answered, pulling a comb from one of his pockets. It was amazing what Regulus could pull from his coat pockets, as if he expected to live a halfway normal life with its contents alone. Though, he may have been doing just that for years. "There are two major things connecting you to the picture in ever newspaper in Britain. One of them's how bony you are, and no one can fix that without time. The other one's your hair. And that elbow-length mess _can't_ be comfortable, anyway. I don't see why you're making such a fuss."

"I'm only nervous because you're the last man I want wielding scissors anywhere near my head."

"Really? I can think of worse." Regulus ran his hand through his brother's hair one more time, Sirius wincing every time he found a tangle. "Besides, it's not as if we can just take you into a barber's shop."

Sirius put his hands over his eyes. "Tell me when your done," he requested in a small voice.

Regulus chuckled and commenced. Sirius felt him tear a few good-sized chunks of hair off, probably with the comb, almost immediately. After a while, Regulus tried to push Sirius's arm out of the way, and he protested. "Close you're eyes if you must, but I'm going for that beard," Regulus told him. "Unless of course you _want_ to look like Dumbledore. . . ."

Sirius closed his eyes and lowered his arms so Regulus could hack at that, too.

Half an hour later, Regulus was untangling what hair was left on Sirius's much lighter head. "It's still a bit long, but I didn't figure you wanted me to cut _all_ of it off," Regulus announced.

Sirius opened his eyes and reached up to feel it. It was still nearly shoulder length, but at least it no longer hung all the way to his elbows. "I don't suppose you've got a mirror?" he asked, glancing back at Regulus, who was rubbing his moustache as he examined the pile of matted hair, which resembled a small, dead woodland creature.

"No, but there are plenty of puddles around here if you really don't trust me. I'm sure you'll be able to see your reflection in one," Regulus replied. He reached into an inside pocket. "Do you want the beard or a razor?"

"Whether or not I keep the beard, I'll want the razor."

Regulus shrugged, pulled it out, and handed it to him. "You really do look so much better this way."

When Sirius returned, he'd shaved. "I'll give you this, Reggie," he mumbled, handing his brother back the razor. "It's better'n I've looked in years."

Regulus raised an eyebrow as he slipped the razor into one of his pockets. "Why do I get the feeling that's not saying much?" he asked with a grin.

* * *

Sirius looked across the clearing at the house. "I'm not sure I like this," he mumbled, glancing back at Regulus.

"Don't be stupid. I've been stealing wizarding things from rubbish bins for years, if you absolutely must know," Regulus answered. "It was the only way to keep up with our world, after I managed to pick up some French and German. And I've been doing it as a fox for years, too, because then the worst thing that happens is the wizard comes outside and chucks something at me. I do, after all, dress like a Muggle, so the alternative's a memory charm."

"You could've always sent Anna to do it," Sirius pointed out. "Or did her majesty turn her nose up at the idea of going through trash bins?"

"My cat? Really, man, d'you honestly think Anna'd take orders, even from me?" Regulus asked, smiling slightly. "Besides, she was a bright cat, but I dunno if I could have gotten it across to her that I wanted the pages with the moving pictures."

Sirius ran his fingers nervously through his hair. "If you're sure this'll work, go ahead," he muttered. He still wasn't sure either of them should be wandering brazenly onto a wizard's lawn, Animagus or not.

"If there were dogs anywhere on this property, we'd know by now," Regulus reminded him, as if it was only the ordinary Sirius was worried about. "And I've been hit by far worse than a rolled up newspaper. You hit me with some of it."

"Shut up," Sirius muttered, unconvinced. "If you're going to get the paper, go get the paper."

Regulus rolled his eyes and transformed into the gray fox. Now that Sirius thought of it, grays were North American, and frankly if anyone paid any attention Regulus looked as if he'd escaped from the London Zoo. The fox bounded across the yard and leapt atop the trash can. He peered into it, and then lowered the front half of his body into it in order to dig through it for a few moments. Finally he reappeared, dragging a rolled up newspaper larger than his head. He dropped it on the ground and dug through the bin again. He emerged with a second paper, dropped to the ground with it, and rolled the two papers back into the woods.

"There," Regulus announced upon changing back, handing Sirius the paper that had been in his mouth a moment before. "Did that kill either of us?"

"No." Sirius opened the paper. "What are we looking for?"

"Well, if your name's in it, I'm sure you'd like to know what it says. Otherwise . . . Dumbledore, Hogwarts, anything that sounds important. . . . You ought to _know_ what's important."

Sirius rolled his eyes and scanned the page. "This looks like a load of fluff, to be honest."

Regulus, who had begun flipping through the other paper, shrugged. "No news is good news," he pointed out. "Frankly, there's not much here, either. No, wait. . . ." He flipped the page, scanned the article, and slowly went dead white. "Damn," he whispered.

After a moment, Sirius impatiently snapped his fingers between his brother's face and the paper. "What is it, Reggie?" he demanded.

Regulus handed him the paper, though he seemed a little reluctant to do so. "They've been authorized to use the kiss on you, Sirius. . . ."

Sirius felt the color draining from his own face. He started to swear, but nothing came out of his mouth. He was too scared to even look at the article Regulus had just handed him.

"You're shaking," Regulus whispered after some time.

Sirius glared at him. "Wouldn't you be, too?" he demanded. "When they're telling the world they're gonna let those things eat my _soul_?"

Regulus patted his shoulder. It wasn't very reassuring, but Sirius didn't think that anything could be. "Then after we've got Pettigrew we head straight to Dumbledore. He'll at least hear you out, won't he?"

Sirius nodded and dropped the paper. "Well, we'd better get going just in case the wizard wonders why a fox wanted his papers," he announced, and transformed into the dog.

Regulus shook his head. "Are you sure you're okay?"

The dog looked incredulously at him. Regulus shrugged, turned into the fox, and followed Sirius deeper into the woods as the hulking black dog bounded off.

**Author's Note: **Hullo all again, and thanks for reading and/or reviewing. Just so you all know, I have the first six chapters of this fic beta-ed, and I'll be updating it once a week; I promise. Arianna Malfoy: Thanks for that note about their characters -- I may have to go back and edit it, at least for Sirius: he prrobably WOULD be a little warier around a former Death Eater, even if it is his brother, wouldn't he. . . . Anyway, until next week, Cheers! -- Loki


	3. September First

Regulus was woken up by someone shaking him. "Good morning," Sirius said cheerfully as he started to stir.

Regulus decided even before opening his eyes that it most certainly was _not._ The reaction was almost Pavlovian; anything that put Sirius into an extremely good mood initially usually spelled trouble later on. "The sun had better be up," he mumbled.

"Yes, the sun is up," Sirius said in an exaggeratedly patient tone of voice. "If the sun wasn't up, _I_ wouldn't be up."

"I remember now what's actually nice about traveling alone," Regulus muttered. "Waking up in your own time's one of those things." But he knew Sirius was hardly going to let him go back to sleep, so he gave up the fight, opened his eyes, and sat up.

Sirius was grinning like a maniac and watching him from the safety of several feet away.

"This is the first time you've said 'good morning,'" Regulus observed dryly. When Sirius did not reply, he continued. "Usually you go about waking me up with no patience, and only yesterday you threw pine cones at me. What's going on to make you so cheerful?"

Sirius shrugged. "We ought to be at Hogwarts sometime this evening."

"And this changes our present circumstances . . . how?" Regulus asked. "We will still be camping in the middle of the woods and spending most of the day as a fox and a dog. There are no doubt exceedingly dangerous creatures in the Forbidden Forest, or at least there were when we were students. Not that it ever mattered to you."

"The four of us were always the most dangerous thing in that forest," Sirius announced.

"I don't doubt it. You, Potter, and a full-grown werewolf. . . ." Regulus shuddered. "I tailed you twice, but I always kept to the trees."

Sirius shook his head. "I know better than to ask why."

"Because you four were behaving like idiots! What if Lupin had given you the slip, eh? What would you have done, then?" Regulus demanded.

"What would _you_ have done if he had?" Sirius countered coolly.

"I never let myself think that far ahead. Otherwise I'd have lost my nerve entirely," Regulus told him quietly. He shook his head and decided that they had better get off of this particular tangent. He didn't like that line anyway— Sirius was right, after all; he probably _wouldn't _have had the nerve to do anything. "I still fail to see why a familiar landscape should make you so cheerful when you've done nothing but gripe at your own brother for two weeks."

"Landscapes are not annoying," Sirius pointed out. "You on the other hand. . . ." He grinned. "I forgive you." Regulus had enough time to roll his eyes theatrically before Sirius actually answered the question. He pulled one of the old newspaper headlines from a robe pocket and handed it to his brother. "That's last Sunday's. Today's—"

"—September first. I know. So we won't be the only people arriving at Hogwarts. You can't seriously mean to give Pettigrew a 'welcome back' surprise."

Sirius shook his head and shoved the clipping back into his pocket. By now both of them were carrying four or five newspaper articles for one reason or another— most of them were from the _Daily Prophet_, a few from local Muggle newspapers. "No, but it'll give me a good idea of how likely I am to get close."

Regulus shrugged. "Well, if you want to get there by the time the train appears, we'd best get going."

"Yeah. Are you going to try to ride on me like I'm a horse again?"

"You've been going for speed, Sirius," his little brother reminded him sensibly. "And that apparently means going at a pace that my stubby little fox legs can't handle. If you're going to run, I'm going to hop aboard."

"Then you might as well just get on my back, then," Sirius answered just before he transformed.

"You realize I'm about to take you at your word?" Regulus asked. "Gray foxes really _weren't _built to move like that."

The glaring dog in front of him nodded, and Regulus transformed and hopped onto the curve of Sirius's spine. The black dog grunted and took off.

For Sirius, the pace was in fact quite easy, but to a much smaller animal it was far too fast. With Regulus perched on Sirius's back most of the way, they made better time, since they no longer had to stop after five minutes' running for the little fox to catch his breath.

It was a generally dreary day, which seemed odd against Sirius's excellent mood. Regulus watched the sky apprehensively, expecting the rain to start pouring down any minute. Twice Sirius nearly knocked him off his back because Regulus was paying more attention to the sky than to his brother.

In the late afternoon, it finally did start. Regulus leapt off his brother's back, becoming human as he did so, and glared upwards at what little of the sky was visible through the canopy of branches.

Sirius transformed as well, looking slightly nervous about doing so. "Reggie. . . ."

Regulus shook his head and took off his jacket. "Here," he said, handing it to his brother, "you're not wearing much more'n rags, and with our luck you'll catch pneumonia."

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "When did you turn into my mum? Or someone's mum, at any rate. I should be glad you're _not_ acting like ours. And you're only wearing a t-shirt now yourself."

"You're not healthy; it's cold, and it's raining," Regulus pointed out. "Refusing to take it only prolongs an argument I will inevitably win."

Sirius grumbled, but he took the jacket. In doing so, he spotted the last thing Regulus wanted him to see. "What's that on your arm?"

Regulus yanked his arm back into his chest before Sirius could get a good look. "Just a scar," he muttered, rubbing it absently. It hadn't been clear in years and he could probably have let his brother look, but he wasn't taking any chances.

"It looks ugly," Sirius observed.

"A lot can happen in thirteen years," Regulus retorted. "Especially in the realms of injury and accident." he shook his head. "Now, I am short and my rump is sore from sitting on your spine all day. I'm not turning back into the fox until this rain lets up, and since you're the one that keeps insisting we keep going. . . ."

Sirius scowled. "I want to get at Peter," he growled.

"I'm aware of that. But it's not going to kill us to have an actual conversation that lasts more'n about five minutes while we wait for the rain to let up so I'll let you go on as the dog. It's been nearly fourteen years since we've had one, after all."

Sirius grumbled something under his breath. "And what do you want to talk about?"

"Anything, practically," Regulus answered with a shrug. "I'd just kinda like to have a conversation with my brother."

"Okay." Sirius glanced up at the clouds and shrugged. "How'd you fall in with the Death Eaters?" he asked, in a bad attempt to sound offhand. It was obvious he was trying to dissuade Regulus from insisting on a conversation by asking.

"Do you want me asking questions about Azkaban?"

"Not really, no."

"Then lay off that subject," Regulus snapped. "And if you're going to say a word about the weather, tell me now and I'll save you the trouble by just throttling you this instant."

Sirius shook his head and groped around blindly for a few comments, and then suddenly they were reminding each other of all the horror stories they could tell about their cousin Bellatrix. It was hardly what Regulus would have chosen as a conversation topic, but it was still a welcome break from Sirius's alternating brooding about Pettigrew or his eagerness to get to Hogwarts.

The rain only lasted about an hour, and by the time it stopped falling it had gotten dark. Sirius looked up in surprise when he realized it had stopped, shook his head, and handed Regulus back his coat. "If we're more than a mile off by now, I've lost the sense of direction I once had."

Regulus decided not to comment on this statement. It was probably wisest he didn't, because he would have had to live with Sirius teasing him for a few days if he had— a moment later they both saw smoke from the train. "_I'll_ go look," Regulus announced.

Sirius rolled his eyes and they both transformed. In fox form, Regulus was hard pressed to argue as the huge black dog joined him at the crest of the hill to look down on the Hogwarts Express.

Cold washed over him, or at least it seemed to, and from there he could faintly smell rotting flesh. It was a moment before the sight of a black cloak told him what was going on. He glanced back at Sirius, who had started to shake and was backing slowly away from the train and out of their sphere of influence. Regulus followed, and they changed back into humans.

"I can't believe they sent them to a _school_," Sirius muttered, shivering.

Regulus glanced back towards the train. He frankly found it a little difficult to believe himself, but there was always an explanation. "Sirius, how old is that photo with Pettigrew in it?"

Sirius shrugged. "I dunno . . . month and a half, two months, I guess. Why?"

Regulus shook his head. "Has anyone ever mentioned that when something's on your mind, you have a tendency to mutter in your sleep?"

"Er . . . no actually."

"Well, you do," Regulus muttered. "You went to Surrey to see Harry, and then you pretty much planned to go straight to Hogwarts from there, right?"

"Ye-es."

"Then it's conceivable that you were talking about it in your sleep." Regulus shrugged. "The only times I heard you doing it, it either wasn't worth mentioning or I already knew about what you'd been muttering about."

Sirius hesitated, then nodded. "I s'pose. But dementors don't _talk_."

Regulus raised an eyebrow. "You're not thinking clearly, as usual," he told his brother. "They wouldn't be working at Azkaban if they had no way to communicate with wizards. And if you had muttered something in your sleep about Hogwarts, it only seems natural that . . . whoever the Minister of Magic is—"

"Cornelius Fudge," Sirius informed him. "He was part of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, I think, the last time you were in Britain."

"All right, that Fudge would want protections around the school. And Dumbledore certainly can't argue if they think the students are in danger."

Sirius shrugged. "Oh, I dunno. If I remember right, Dumbledore can argue with a hell of a lot. But if I was muttering about Hogwarts . . . damn. They probably think I'm after Harry."

"And if anyone has any idea you headed to Surrey first thing, that hasn't improved the situation much," Regulus added.

"Shut up, Reggie."

Regulus shook his head but changed the subject, which Sirius clearly wanted more than he wanted Regulus to actually can it. "When was the last time you used my given name?"

"Er . . . the night you scared me half to death in Surrey, I think."

"I meant actually addressed me with it."

"I only actually called you Regulus when we fought," Sirius pointed out. "So I s'pose when you as good as told me you were a Death Eater and I said I never wanted to see you again."

Regulus rolled his eyes. "You and Meda _were_ the only ones that ever called me Reggie," he mumbled. "I guess that's _why_ Bella and Cissy and Mum never used it. Anyway, shall we make our way to the Forbidden Forest since its getting rather dark out here? Or do we intend to camp outside the train station?"

"Might as well head into the forest rather than standing here half in the open," Sirius answered with a shrug. He glanced back towards the Hogwarts Express one last time and shuddered again.

"Look," Regulus whispered, "if all else fails _I'll_ go nab Pettigrew."

"As if you could explain your presence any better than I could mine." Sirius snorted. "And anyway, how would you get into Gryffindor Tower?"

_At least I wouldn't be the one they were handing back to the dementors for them to kiss,_ Regulus thought. "I was going to ask you the same thing about the tower. Not as if you know the password, is it?"

"I'll think of something," Sirius retorted. He turned into the dog so Regulus wouldn't question him further and bounded off.

Regulus followed him, shaking his head.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Finally, a little bit of tension between those two . . . after all, they've been through a lot since they parted ways, and neither are exactly eager to talk about it. Anyway, thank you to Daydreaming Git, Gabwr, and Marauder3Moony for reviews! (See, I told you I would update weekly). Cheers! --- Loki


	4. Crookshanks

Regulus dropped out of the trees, becoming human as he hit the ground. Sirius looked up in surprise from where he was trying to start a fire. Regulus glanced at the pile of wood, pulled out his wand, and lit it magically. "Well, I certainly saw something worth noting," he told his older brother. "What's _Remus Lupin_ doing here?"

"Remus?" Sirius asked, truly mystified. He ran his fingers distractedly through his hair. "I dunno . . . teaching?"

Regulus lifted an eyebrow. "A werewolf? Really, Sirius, not even Dumbledore would hire. . . ."

He faded off under Sirius's glare. "It could happen," Sirius snapped. "Remus always was the one that was good at explaining things and with the younger kids. And Dumbledore's been known for weirder staff appointments. Besides, I _still_ want to know how you figured out he was a werewolf. And why you never told Mum."

"I never told Mum because if I respected any of the four of you, honestly, it was Lupin," Regulus answered. "I found out he was a werewolf as I was sneaking around trying to figure out what you were up to when you became Animagi. I never mentioned it because you would have killed me."

Sirius shook his head. "You're as bad as Snape, Reggie," he announced.

Regulus snorted. "I know you meant that as an insult, but I could choose to take it another way," he answered. "You might never have approved of him, but Severus Snape always did have the ability to put two and two together without much help."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Maybe. Well, one of us probably needs to go hunt—"

"I'll do it," Regulus said automatically. "I think it's my turn."

"You're Animagus is only the size of a rabbit."

Regulus shrugged. "Hasn't stopped me yet, has it?" he pointed out. "And it isn't as if your bigger size has gotten _you_ any more success."

"I do bring down bigger game when I succeed," Sirius pointed out.

Regulus shrugged as if it didn't matter— which to him, it probably didn't, because keeping them fed took up time Regulus would have otherwise spent being bored and Sirius brooding. "Yes— _when_ you succeed, which is rarely. And are you going to do something stupid while I'm gone?"

"I was going to go lurk by the lake and see if I can figure out what Remus is doing here."

"That qualifies as stupid," Regulus pointed out. "Lupin'll recognize you. Up until a month ago, he'd seen you transform much more often than I had, hadn't he?"

"I will be the one doing the seeing, thank you very much," Sirius snapped. "And it's not like you're my mother. Thank God." He transformed and stalked off before his brother could say another word. Frankly, he was starting to get sick of the way Regulus was acting— like he needed a nanny.

Fortunately Regulus did not seem to think this idea was stupid enough to be worth stunning him, and so Sirius was allowed to stalk to the border of the Forbidden Forest in peace. He lay down, half hidden because he'd squeezed into a crevice in a large rock, and watched.

He didn't see Remus— he wasn't entirely sure he'd expected to, really— but he did see Harry, who was apparently trying to mediate between a redheaded boy and a girl who was clutching a large ginger cat. The cat seemed to be the cause of the argument, as the redhead gestured emphatically at it as he talked.

The cat was struggling in the girl's arms, and eventually leapt out of them and went bounding towards the woods. "Crookshanks, no!" the girl hollered.

The cat, Crookshanks, paid no heed, not that in Sirius's limited experience cats ever did.

Harry and the other boy stopped the girl from following her cat. "Really, Hermione," Sirius heard Harry tell her. "He'll be back."

"But there are all sorts of things in there," Hermione replied. "He could get hurt . . . or eaten . . . or—"

"Better him than Scabbers," the redhead retorted.

"Oh, honestly, Ron, shut up about your rat!"

_Rat?_ Sirius wondered absently as the bandy-legged cat charged towards him. Crookshanks stopped a few feet from the crevice, his tail twitching and his thick ginger coat standing on end, making him look twice his already formidable size. He hissed.

Sirius growled back, fighting the canine instinct that came with this body, the urge to give chase.

The cat, if anything, looked indignant rather than frightened. He extended a forepaw and scratched Sirius across the nose, still hissing angrily. Sirius felt his own fur standing on end. The dog in him wanted to chase this animal up a tree. The human just wanted to slip out of the crevice and go away as quietly as possible.

Crookshanks let out a yowl.

"Look, he's already in trouble!" Sirius heard Hermione call.

As she rushed forward to look after her cat, Sirius thought it wisest to listen to the human in him. He slid backwards out of the crevice, still growling a little at Crookshanks, and disappeared into the woods once again.

When he got back to the place they'd been camping for the past week and a half, he found Regulus roasting a rabbit. He looked up when Sirius entered the clearing. "I'm not talking to you as a hulking dog," Regulus informed him.

Sirius changed, slightly irritated that after the exchange earlier in the afternoon Regulus had caught something, but hungry enough not to mention this right now. Besides, he was still slightly bothered by that cat, and he wanted the cat lover he knew was lurking in his brother. "I know this sounds odd, but are they any cats that can recognize Animagi as . . . not actually animals?"

Regulus shrugged. "I'm sure a kneazle could," he answered. "I don't think an ordinary cat could, though. I don't think Anna ever knew the fox was me, at any rate, and she was a pretty bright cat."

Sirius snorted, well aware that Regulus's blindest spot had been his gray tabby.

Regulus lifted an eyebrow. "Why do you ask?"

"There was this _enormous_ cat that came right into he trees and started spitting at me," Sirius said. "he wouldn't leave me alone, at least not until his mistress came running into save him. I wondered if maybe he knew what I was."

"Sirius, you were in the form of a _dog_," Regulus replied. "Dogs and cats don't like each other. They never have. It was probably just that."

"But it's dogs that attack cats," Sirius answered sensibly.

"You said this thing was enormous?" Regulus asked with a smile. "Maybe the only dogs he's seen before are lap dogs or something. Perhaps he thought he could take you. And judging from the gash on your face, he could."

Sirius raised his hand to feel blood streaming down his nose. "I didn't want to kill it," he said defensively.

"Really?" Regulus asked sarcastically. "Honestly, Sirius, fifteen years ago if it had come down to a contest between 'Padfoot' and my cat, my money would have been on Anna."

Sirius raised an eyebrow, but he knew better than to argue. He and Regulus knew perfectly well he wouldn't have ripped Anna to shreds, though as a dog he was capable of it— she had meant too much to Regulus. Sirius had been terribly self-absorbed as a teenager, but he hadn't been blind and he hadn't been cruel. "I'd've let her win for your sake," he announced. "When's that going to be done?"

"Give it another five minutes," Regulus answered.

Sirius shook his head and pulled the photograph from the _Daily Prophet_ out of the pocket of his robe. The redheaded boy was in there, with Peter on his shoulder. He'd seemed convinced that Crookshanks was going to eat his rat. Regulus had a point when he'd mentioned the animosity between cats and dogs and of course cats considered rats their prey, but still, it was odd that the cat had been so intent on him and Peter. . . . He shook his head, slipped the photo back into his robe, and started to tease his brother about Anna.

* * *

Crookshanks turned out to have the somewhat irritating habit of seeking Sirius out and hissing or simply examining him whenever he crept to the edge of the lake as a dog. He never saw Peter— he supposed he'd have to try getting into Gryffindor tower after all— or Remus, and only rarely Harry and his friends. He slipped instinctively back into the trees at the sight of a few of Hogwarts's constants— McGonagall, Dumbledore, Sprout, and Flitwick, among others. Slughorn seemed to have retired, or at least Sirius never saw him. He'd had enough to time to wonder absently who the current Slytherin Head of House was before Crookshanks came prancing back into the woods to hiss at him.

The funny thing was that the cat never seemed to go after Regulus, who aside from being Crookshanks's size, was the cat lover. That Reggie usually did his scouting from trees shouldn't have been a barrier for a cat.

After he'd resigned himself to the idea that this cat was not going to leave him alone, Sirius slowly began procuring his trust. It was over a week after he'd come to this decision that Crookshanks would do anything but flee back towards Hogwarts when Sirius transformed into a human and a few days after that before Crookshanks let Sirius pick him up and take him farther into the Forbidden Forest to introduce him to Regulus.

Despite the near darkness, Regulus did not appear to be around. It was a little while before Sirius noticed the small grey creature lying at the edge of the firelight with his tail draped over his head. With his foot, Sirius lifted the tail far enough to see the gray and tawny fox underneath.

After a moment's indecision, Sirius put Crookshanks down beside Regulus. The cat took one look at the fox and pounced.

Crookshanks was at least Regulus's size and probably a little heavier, and he also had the element of surprise. Regulus woke up with a series of panicked yelps, started to stand up, changed his mind, and tried to shield his face with his tail. After a moment, he seemed to decide that he was clearly not going to win as a fox and transformed into a man again. Crookshanks, still hissing, was perched on his shoulders.

After a short fight on more even grounds, Crookshanks was sitting still in Regulus's arms, looking more surprised and curious than mollified. "Yeah, yeah, my cat could be a monster, too," he told the ginger animal. "You'd've probably gotten along." He looked up at Sirius and raised an eyebrow. "I suppose that was your idea of a joke?"

"It was kind of amusing, yeah," Sirius replied, sitting down.

Regulus shook his head and sighed. "I suppose this is the cat?" he asked. Without waiting for his brother to reply, he added, "He really _is_ enormous . . . gorgeous, too. . . ."

"If you don't count the fact that he apparently ran into a brick wall, I might be able to buy that," Sirius answered, eyeing Crookshanks skeptically.

Regulus shook his head, examining Crookshanks. "What do they feed you, that you got so big?" he asked the cat absently, examining his ears and tail. "Yeah, Sirius, the cat has kneazle in him. His ears are a little big and there's a bit of a tuft on the tail, although you can hardly tell, he's so fluffy. But it doesn't explain the size, and I think this is the biggest cat I've ever seen."

Sirius nodded absently. "So you'll believe me when I tell you he _knows_ were Animagi?"

Regulus shrugged. "I'll consider it."

Crookshanks tired of behaving himself for Regulus and took a swipe at the man's already scarred left arm. Regulus jumped and dropped the cat, leaving Crookshanks to wander over by the fire.

While Regulus was muttering and trying to stop the blood flow on his arm, Sirius picked Crookshanks back up. "Look, we know about Peter— the rat. If you catch him, can you bring him back here?"

"Really, Sirius, he's a bright cat, I'll give you that, but cats talk even less than dementors," Regulus muttered, raising his head. "You can't honestly expect—"

He shut up as Crookshanks nodded.

"All right, then," Regulus muttered. "Smart cat. Why don't you take him back up to the castle, Sirius, before the owner starts to worry about him?"

"You're actually trusting me near the castle?"

"Only because the cat obviously likes you more," Regulus muttered, a little sulkily. "G'night, Sirius."

Sirius grinned as he transformed into the dog and started to lead Crookshanks back to the castle.

* * *

**Author's Note:** This particular chapter was fun to write just for the introduction of Crookshanks. Well, the cat aside, thanks to Gabwr, SupportSeverusSnape, and imakeeper for their reviews (imakeeper: I'm not entirely sure what you meant by the plot twist; if you would care to tell me. . . ?). Anyway, be sure to tell me what you think of chapter four. Cheers! -- Loki


	5. Halloween

"Tomorrow's Halloween."

"I am aware of that," Regulus answered from his vantage point twenty feet in the air. He'd sprung up a tree when that hulking black thing had come racing through the clearing several hours before. Sirius suspected it was a thestral— he knew there were a few of them around Hogwarts— but this explanation had either failed to convince or failed to comfort Regulus. "What about it?"

"Oy. Honestly, Reggie, will you come down from that tree?"

Regulus blinked. "What does that have to do with Halloween? Or anything else in the discussion for that matter?" he asked. Nevertheless, he finally obliged his brother and clambered down the tree. Clearly the fox was far more suited to climbing than the man was.

"Nothing," Sirius admitted cheerfully as Regulus reached the ground. "I was just getting a crick in my neck from staring up there so long."

Regulus rolled his eyes theatrically. "I hope you're not expecting pity. Now really, Sirius, what about Halloween?"

Sirius shrugged. "Well, everyone'll be down at the feast tomorrow night, won't they?" he asked. "No one'll be lurking in their common rooms; the only people that won't be there'll be in the hospital wing. It'll just be . . . you know, the cats and the toads . . . and the rats. . . ."

"Oh. That." Regulus ran his fingers through his hair distractedly, regarding his brother oddly for a minute. "Look, whatever it is that guards the Gryffindor common room is not going to simply let you stroll in without the password, is it?"

"I'll think of something."

"Clock's ticking," Regulus pointed out. He adjusted his glasses— a sure sign to Sirius that something was making him nervous. "You've got about twenty-four hours to come up with a plan, and if you can't I hold you back by the collar of your robes all night if I have to."

"Deal," Sirius said.

"That was a statement, not a proposition," Regulus mumbled. "I was going to hold you back if you agreed, and I was going to hold you back if I had to stun you."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "I can get in."

"Really? Then have you already come up with a plan?"

Sirius shook his head. "Not exactly. But trust me, Reggie, I can get passed her. And let's face it, how many opportunities like this am I going to get?"

"You mean opportunities to do something incredibly stupid?" Regulus asked dryly. "I'm sure you'll get more than enough of them." Sirius scowled, and Regulus shook his head. "All right, all right. Not a lot of opportunities to get at Pettigrew. But really, Sirius . . . it _is_ awfully dangerous."

"So was breaking out of Azkaban!"

"Yes, but they weren't going to kiss you if they caught you breaking out, now were they!" Regulus exclaimed angrily. He rubbed his temples. "Just be careful, Sirius. And don't kill him."

Sirius nodded, watching his brother with some concern. "You're sure you're okay, Reggie?"

"Yeah. Just worried about you. By the way, it's your turn to hunt."

Sirius grinned at this. "You're just trying to get rid of me," he accused.

"Bingo." Regulus grinned back. "That, and I _was_ the last person to actually catch something. Go on, I'm out of patience with the world right now, let alone you."

"You ran out of patience with me not long after Mum did."

"I thought you figured out I was trying to _get rid of you_," Regulus pointed out.

Sirius laughed, transformed, and disappeared into the forest.

* * *

"I'm going in."

"Like hell you are. It's not quite dark yet, so no one'll be down at the feast yet," Regulus pointed out. Like Sirius, he was staring fixedly at the castle, hoping Hagrid didn't chance to glance at the Forbidden Forest from his hut right now, because otherwise he would have seen what appeared to be a convicted murderer and a Muggle standing just inside the trees.

"You saw the kids all walking down to Hogsmeade as well as I did," Sirius reminded him. "Chances are they're all still there. If I can hide, I can watch them when they come back and get the password."

"No. If Filch doesn't catch you, that monster cat of his will. Even if you're a dog, he'll cause an absolute uproar and you'll never get in."

Sirius couldn't argue with this. "Never thought I'd hear of a cat you didn't like," he said with a weak grin. "And there's no way she's still alive."

"Filch is as 'bad' as I am on the subject of his cats," Regulus pointed out drily, making quotation marks in the air around the words Sirius had used to describe his view of Anna. "He'll have gotten another one. You said you'd think of something. I hope that wasn't it."

"Well, yes and no. It was one of several," Sirius mumbled. He reached into his pocket and fingered the knife he'd hidden in there. Fortunately, Regulus's eyes were still trained on the castle, because he really didn't feel like explaining its presence to his brother.

Ten minutes passed in silence.

"Reggie, you have to let me go in," Sirius pointed out. "Else I'll never be able to get at Peter, and without Peter I'm almost back to where I started."

"Not yet, I don't," Regulus growled.

"Who elected you my keeper?" Sirius demanded.

"Somebody has to do it, Sirius," Regulus answered tartly. "And considering what everyone else thinks of you, I guess it has to be me."

Sirius started an argument, which did more for Regulus's cause than his own, because they were at it for half an hour before Regulus glanced up at the stars, checked his watch, and announced, "All right, just _go_. But be careful."

Sirius started towards the castle but paused. "Er, Reggie?" he asked, turning around. "Can I borrow your wand?"

Regulus raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Because you're right. With Filch I'll probably get thrown right back out if I'm a dog— unless the rules have changed since we were in school, after all, they aren't allowed in there. Disillusioning myself's the better bet right now, isn't it?"

Regulus smiled. "So you do have some sense. It had better _only_ be disillusionment, though, Sirius." He started digging through his pockets.

Sirius shrugged. The Fat Lady had probably seen him as a dog, James as a stag, and Peter as a rat before— Remus had always been chastising them about being careful— but right now he didn't want to remind her, not when she might go to Dumbledore. To him, she was a much more pressing concern than Filch. He just knew not mention this to Regulus. The Slytherin guardian, after all, was inanimate.

When Regulus handed him the wand, he performed the spell and shoved it into his now camouflaged pocket. "Be careful," Regulus requested again as he stalked off.

Sirius shook his head and made his way to the castle. Inside, he was glad he'd disillusioned himself, because students were still making their way to the feast, and so there was no way he'd have made it very far as a dog. Still, avoiding people was sometimes a challenge. He came within a hair's breadth of hitting Harry's redheaded friend as the two of them, along with the girl who owned Crookshanks, came down a staircase.

Somehow, however, he made it up to Gryffindor Tower without getting caught and removed the charm. Since it was Regulus's wand, anyway, he heeded his brother's words and stuck it right back into his pocket. Then he approached the portrait.

The large woman in the Renaissance-style dress Sirius had been looking for was dozing in her frame by the time he got there. He hesitated for a moment, but he knew he'd never be able to pry to portrait hole open— it had to be spelled— let alone do it without waking her up. "Excuse me? I need to get in," he announced, tapping the portrait.

She jerked awake and turned to look at him. Instead of sleepily asking for the password, which she had always done when he was in school, she yelped. "Sirius Black!"

"Yes, yes, _quiet down_," Sirius growled. "I just need to get in."

"I ought to call the headmaster," she pointed out.

Sirius considered the consequences of trying to explain the situation to Dumbledore without any proof but a photograph and the word of his brother, a former Death Eater. "Please don't. Like I said, I just need to get in for a few minutes. I'll get it and go, okay?"

The Fat Lady glared suspiciously at him. "Get what?"

"A rat! That's all I'm in for, just a rat. Now let me in," he growled.

"Why do you need a rat from this common room?"

Sirius shook his head, frustrated. "You never used to ask so many questions, even when four of us came in at two in the morning. Just trust me, I need a specific rat, and he crawled in there."

She seemed to relent. "I _will_ tell the headmaster," she grumbled. "And do you know the password, Mr. Black?"

Sirius sighed. "You know I haven't gotten a password in" —he paused, doing the math— "almost seventeen years. Just let me in, will you?"

She shook her head. "I don't want to let you in, anyway, so I'm certainly not going to do it without the password."

* * *

"You did what?" Regulus asked, for at least the thirtieth time.

"I lost my temper, all right?" Sirius snapped. "I haven't blown it off properly in thirteen years, anyway, since you're too little to really fight."

Regulus shook his head. "Where'd you get the knife, anyway?" he demanded.

Sirius groaned. He'd known Reggie was going to ask that question, and he'd been dreading it. Occasionally, though thankfully not very often, Regulus reminded him of their mother with his interrogation. "I, er . . . borrowed your wand and transfigured a piece of wood."

"Oh."

Sirius blinked. _Three . . . two . . . one. . . ._ he thought, waiting for the explosion.

"That was, without a doubt, one of the stupidest things you've ever done," Regulus announced. He'd gone white, but he was still calm. Evidently he wasn't _that_ much like their mother. In fact, neither of their parents stayed at all calm when they got angry. It reminded him, more than anything, of Professor McGonagall, and so Sirius wasn't sure whether to be glad of it or not. "With knives, after all, comes the temptation to use them. Which you did."

"Reggie, please. What would you have done in my shoes?"

"Walked away quietly like any sensible person and hope she didn't carry through with her threat to tell Dumbledore. You realize the security around here is going to double, don't you?"

"_Yes_."

Regulus shook his head. "Just making sure. It's obvious you weren't thinking when you _stabbed a portrait,_ after all," he pointed out. "I don't suppose you're going to let me change the knife back, are you?"

Sirius shook his head.

"Well, I thought I'd ask. Give me my wand back and let's get further back in the woods, all right?" Regulus asked.

Sirius shrugged and handed it over. "Shocked you haven't lost your temper with me."

Regulus raised his eyebrows. "_You_ were the one that inherited Mum's temper. D'you think I'd've gotten on with her much better than you did if I couldn't control mine?"

Sirius shrugged. "Fair enough."

* * *

Remus Lupin shook his head and half-collapsed into the chair behind his desk. What a night. Not only was the full moon approaching— and Severus Snape kept making snide remarks about this when he brought Wolfsbane— he had just spent half the night looking for the man that used to be one of his best friends. He didn't want to think about either of them, let alone deal with them both at the same time.

"Sirius. . . ." he mumbled tiredly, but couldn't think of anything to finish his sentence with. For the thousandth time he wondered what had gone wrong after they'd left school. With the bone Sirius had had to pick with his family, Remus would have considered him about as likely to turn to the Dark Lord as James. But then again, blood _was_ thicker than water. . . .

Snape chose that moment to enter the room, interrupting a gloomy train of thought. Remus looked up tiredly to see who it was, and noted the goblet in his hands. "Why now?" he groaned.

The potions master lifted an eyebrow. "Well, if you would rather eat your students, I can't say I'll object too much," he replied acidly.

"My apologies, Severus, it's just been a horrible night," Remus mumbled. "Thank you."

Snape rolled his eyes and set the glass on the table. Then, having already made a snide remark, he turned around and left. Remus shook his head, relieved. He hadn't expected any sympathy from a former rival, but he was afraid Snape would start on Sirius as well as werewolfism. Of course, after what happened to James and Lily he couldn't very well forgive Sirius, but it was one thing to know that and another entirely to hear it come out of Snape's mouth, when Snape would have believed anything of Sirius and James— and of Remus himself and Peter, now that he thought of it.

Remus shook his head and reached out for the goblet. Snape was right; he'd better take that now. _And_ plan lessons through the next full moon so a substitute would know where his classes were.

Anything that would keep his mind off the presence of the moon and of Sirius.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I'm glad everyone liked Crookshanks, since he is a bit pivital in the PoA plotline. . . and may cause more banter, since I have a weakness for writing it. Anyway, Mizz Moony Luver, to answer your question, no, Crookshanks is not an Animagus. He's just half kneazle (insert obligatory plug for _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_, since its for charity). And thanks to imakeeper, Gabwr, and SupportSeverusSnape for also reviewing. Cheers! -- Loki


	6. Quidditch and Dementors

It was the first time since Halloween that Sirius had woken up in a good mood. Naturally, Regulus was a little suspicious. "What's going on?" he demanded groggily, still unused to getting up around dawn. Automatically he started searching for his glasses.

Sirius shrugged and handed them to him. "There's a Quidditch match today. I thought I'd come watch."

Regulus considered this announcement. "If you didn't get into the Gryffindor common room Halloween night, how do you know there's a match?" he demanded.

Sirius shrugged again. "I've sat in on a few Gryffindor practices," he admitted. "I overheard."

"You could've been caught," Regulus said reproachfully.

"For the thousandth time, you are _not_ my mum," Sirius snapped, crossing his arms over his chest. "And actually I _was_ caught. By the Chasers."

"And what did you do then?" Regulus demanded.

"Rolled over on my back and let them rub my belly," Sirius answered with a shrug. "I'm not an idiot. I _was_ in the shape of a dog."

"Oh." Regulus sat up, stretching. Now that an explanation had been given, he was much more interested in the contents of the message. "Gryffindor against who?"

"Oh— Hufflepuff. It was going to be against Slytherin, but apparently their Seeker fussed continually about a broken arm and they used it as an excuse not to play in this weather."

Regulus glanced up at the sky, which had been storming on and off, soaking the both of them thoroughly, all week. "You're going to hate me, but I can't say I can't blame them."

"Yeah, yeah. Should actually be a pretty good game, from the sound of it. At any rate the Captain's a bit worried."

"Then I won't be completely embarrassed when I root for Hufflepuff?" Regulus asked innocently.

"Why would you do that?"

"Because I'm a Slytherin. On principle, I don't root for Gryffindor." He grinned, and partly because of the subject matter and partly because they'd missed so much of each other's adult lives, he reverted back to teenage banter. "Besides, I'm your little brother. My goal in life is to get on your nerves."

"Maybe back when you were six," Sirius grumbled. "I'm going hunting."

"And I'm going back to bed," Regulus retorted, a bit sleepily. "Good luck."

* * *

That afternoon, as a fox and a dog made their way up the steps of one of the more sparsely populated Quidditch stands, the weather had only gotten worse. Regulus's small body had turned black under the pounding of the rain, even though he'd spent much of the time walking under Sirius and using the bigger animal as a canopy.

Once up on the stands, Sirius bounded up to the highest part, his sopping tail wagging. Regulus hopped up after him and took refuge under the stand. A few more people came up the steps, but it seemed that the weather had scared some spectators off and led the others to crowd together. A girl with long blonde hair and big eyes sat down beside Sirius and patted his head. "Oh, good," she mumbled. "I was afraid you were a Grim. Or a Horund."

Sirius glanced down between his paws at his brother, who cocked his head in a canine shrug. Neither of them had the slightest idea what a Horund was.

The girl petted Sirius for a little while longer, but when the match started she got up and wandered down, closer to other people.

Considering the near blinding rain, Sirius was right— it was a fairly good match. Regulus couldn't really hear _anything_ above the sounds of the storm, let alone the commentary, but he could see the scoreboard if he squinted, and sometimes he thought he could tell who was on which team.

The sky got steadily darker as the game wore on, and Regulus sank farther beneath the bench as he watched. He wondered if a Quidditch game could ever be halted because of weather. That hadn't happened when he was in school, but there had never been a game in this kind of a storm when he was in school, either. Assuredly Dumbledore would call the game off if the students were in danger from the lightning. . . .

Gryffindor was fifty points up when their captain called a time out. Regulus glanced up, wondering if Sirius would walk off now— goodness knew it was late enough. But Sirius showed no sign of moving, and Regulus wasn't leaving his brother in a prime position to do something incredibly stupid. Besides, in this miserable weather the Forbidden Forest probably wasn't much drier than his seat under the stands, if it was even drier at all.

After a few minutes, the players took to the air again. Regulus glanced around, hoping to see the glint of gold and a Seeker streaking towards it. He didn't, but he did see a Gryffindor player that looked a lot like James Potter— Harry— looking around.

Suddenly Sirius leapt off the bench and started back down the steps as Harry did a double take, staring right at where the dog had been moments before.

Regulus hesitated, reluctant come out from under a roof, but as Sirius's black tail disappeared down the steps a creeping, cold situation gripped the pit of his stomach. Evidently Sirius had sensed the dementors first. As quickly as was safe on a slippery platform fifty feet in the air, he followed his brother down.

He didn't stand a chance of catching up to Sirius as a fox, and the two were well into the Forbidden Forest before he even saw the dog again. Sirius was whimpering and shaking under an elm, and his eyes were huge.

Regulus took human form. "Are you all right?"

The dog jumped to his feet and whirled around to face him.

"Sirius. . . ." Regulus shook his head, unable to think of anything sensible to say, and reached out to scratch Sirius's ears. To his surprise, Sirius let him.

Eventually Sirius also took human shape. "Sorry about that," he mumbled.

"You dealt with them for twelve years. I run after putting up with them for fifteen minutes." Regulus shrugged, tugged off his coat, and handed it to his brother. "You're shaking," he pointed out.

"Not from the cold," Sirius retorted, but he accepted the jacket. "I can't believe they came _onto the grounds_."

"Well, Dumbledore certainly isn't the one that authorized it," Regulus pointed out absently. "He'll be bleeding furious— I wouldn't be surprised if one of those kids fell off their brooms, with them coming up on the crowd suddenly like that."

Sirius nodded. "I'm going to _kill_ Peter," he mumbled.

Regulus shook his head. He was _not_ going to ask what Pettigrew had to do with anything right now. At the moment Sirius needed a friend, not the little brother who demanded explanations for everything. Unfortunately Regulus was unaccustomed to providing the former.

Finally, however, Sirius seemed to shake off his gloom. "So, who do you think won?" he asked absently.

Regulus stared up at him in surprise. "Well . . . Gryffindor was in the lead when we left, but not so far they'd win if Hufflepuff got to the snitch first."

Sirius shrugged. "Let's just say Gryffindor won then, shall we?"

"Unless we find out later that you're wrong," Regulus replied, shrugging. "Sure, Gryffindor won."

Sirius raised his brows. "You're giving in so easy?" After all, the last time the two had been together on this constant a basis, Sirius had been sixteen, and they certainly had never let each other win back then.

_And why would I fight you over something stupid like that after what just happened?_ Regulus wondered. He wasn't about to admit that, however. "If it had been Slytherin instead of Hufflepuff, I would have fought you."

"Had it been Slytherin, there would have been no room to fight me, because regardless of who caught the snitch, Gryffindor would've won."

"Keep thinking that, Sirius, keep thinking that." Regulus shook his head and glanced back up at the heavens, which was still soaking them through the canopy. "And whatever you do, mate, don't scare me like that ever again."

* * *

Snape was up to something. Remus had to admit that it wasn't anything unexpected, really, because he was just trying to communicate the truth of Remus's absence to the students. Still, assigning five years an essay on werewolves . . . there were one or two students in each class that, if they did the essay, might figure it out. Hermione Granger— who had, of course, already done her homework— was at the top of the list.

He didn't suppose it was something he should worry about. If Hermione confronted him about it, she would probably not do it in public, and nearly everyone else had put off the assignment in hopes that they wouldn't have to turn it in.

He shook his head as he searched for his lesson plans— the only ones Snape had stuck to were the first and second years. Evidently he had not considered them experienced enough to unravel his clues. Well, Severus Snape was not precisely one to go out of his way to make Remus's life any easier, was he?

"Remus?"

He looked up in surprise to see Professor Dumbledore standing at the door to his classroom. "Oh . . . Hullo, Professor," he said awkwardly. "What brings you here?"

"I thought I'd make sure you were really all right," he answered with a shrug. "The students all seemed happy to have you back in class, but I know you didn't like the idea of handing your classes over to Severus."

Remus smiled slightly. "Wether or not I liked letting Severus teach my classes, sir, I had no intention of coming back into the classroom until I was sure I was okay," he replied.

Professor Dumbledore shook his head. "I see you've made a mess worthy of your school days," he remarked dryly. "What are you actually _trying_ to do?"

"Frankly, I'm trying to figure out what Severus did with my lesson plans. Whatever it was, it wasn't stick to them," Remus told him. "I have been listening to complaints about two-rolls-of-parchment-long werewolf essays all day."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, I'm going to give him the benefit of the doubt and assume one of us lost them," Remus answered. "He knew I hadn't covered werewolves with any of my classes, after all. I just could have sworn I left them on the top of my desk."

"That desk or the one in your office?"

"This one. Snape especially was not coming into my office, even if he's the one that brewed the potion for me," Remus reminded him.

"Well, it still seems rather likely they were lost, doesn't it?" Dumbledore smiled slightly.

He glanced back down at his desk, which was piled with papers he'd either had yet to grade or yet to pass back. "Er . . . yes, Headmaster, I see your point." He shook his head. "I knew I was going to have to cover them at least with the fifth years, but I still wish he hadn't done werewolves."

Dumbledore shook his head. "Why don't I help you look?" he suggested. "You've set yourself quite the task, after all."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Hullo again, all, sorry this isn't my best chapter. To answer a few reviews: SupportSeverusSnape: Actually, I'd say Sirius is very smart; he did become an Animagus at fifteen. He just has not common sense whatsoever. Daydreaming Git: Actually, the reaction to the Black brothers I was looking forward most to writing was Snape, since Reggie is going to throw him off a bit. Anyway, until next time, Cheers! -- Loki


	7. Winter

Even after three-and-a-half months of getting up at the crack of dawn, Regulus still had trouble with early hours. On the other hand, Sirius had become a morning person sometime in the last thirteen years. So it was a surprise to wake up while Sirius was still sleeping. He checked his watch: Five-thirty. No wonder it had seemed so dark.

Crookshanks yowled from behind him.

"Oh, _you_ got me up," he mumbled, sitting up. He lifted the huge cat onto his lap and petted him. Crookshanks purred.

Ten minutes later, Sirius rolled over. Crookshanks looked over at the movement, his ears pricked forward and his bottlebrush tail twitching. Reasoning that the cat had come to see Sirius anyway, Regulus released him. Besides, it was only what Sirius would have done to him.

Crookshanks pounced, landing squarely on Sirius's chest. The man woke up and sat up with a start, and the cat tumbled into his lap, mewing indignantly. Sirius looked down at the animal and back up at Regulus. "I suppose this is your idea of a joke?" he demanded.

"No, but it's _yours_."

Sirius looked from the cat to his brother for a moment, as if trying to unravel the riddle. Then he chuckled. "_Touché_. I did do it to you, didn't I?" He scratched the cat behind the ears as if he were a dog. Crookshanks fluffed his tail but tolerated it. "What brings you here, buddy?"

"Maybe he just likes our company," Regulus suggested.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "I'll bet you they got the Fat Lady replaced, eh?" he asked the cat. Crookshanks purred. "Well, any closer to getting Peter?"

The cat did not reply.

"I'll take that as a 'no.'" Sirius shook his head and looked over at his brother. "How long d'you reckon it'll take to get to him?"

Regulus shrugged. "All eternity, for all I know. I never really knew Pettigrew."

"Lucky you," Sirius answered darkly.

After awhile, Crookshanks apparently decided that was enough and disappeared back into the woods. Regulus checked his watch again— now it was six, the time Sirius usually woke him up. "Well," Regulus said cautiously, "I'm going to get down to Hogsmeade and see if I can't snag a few copies of the _Daily Prophet_."

"I thought you said you weren't going into Hogsmeade," Sirius pointed out.

"No, I said I wasn't going into Hogsmeade for a loaf of bread. That requires human form, and there's just enough of a family resemblance I'm not going to risk it. But we haven't had any outside source of information in three months. Well . . . unless you count the cat, and even then, that's only information on Hogwarts grounds."

"You're right. I'm going too."

Regulus sighed. He'd known this would happen, although it hadn't stopped him from hoping it wouldn't. "_Sirius. . . ._"

"Look, Reggie, you're the one being stupid now. You and Remus and Peter are the only three people that know I'm an Animagus."

"I suppose."

"And it's not likely that we're going to run into Remus or Peter," Sirius added, as if to be sure his brother couldn't use them in an argument.

"True," Regulus muttered reluctantly.

"And if we do run into Peter, I'm going to kill him, so it isn't as if he could testify against me in front of the Wizengamot anyway."

"Sirius, we talked about that."

"And I've changed my mind. Peter dies."

Regulus sighed and shook his head. It was useless right now— he'd have to take it up with Sirius when the man was feeling more sensible, which might not be for some time yet. He just hoped he got to it before Sirius got to Pettigrew. "Fine," he mumbled. "We both go to Hogsmede."

* * *

Regulus, who was usually the family pessimist, felt he should have known that the day he decided to go to Hogsmeade would be a Hogsmeade weekend for the Hogwarts students— even though it had been so long since they'd gotten outside news that he'd forgotten it was a Saturday.

Still, they were in the form of dog and fox, and as Sirius wandered through the crowds with his tail wagging absently, the worst attention he got was an older wizard shooing him off, muttering about rabies, and a few students stopping to scratch his pointed ears. On these occasions Regulus, who was not only a fox but the wrong color for an English one, slunk into the shadows, and the kids seemed to think he was only a smaller, shier dog. As such they made slow progress, but with Sirius's size he was probably more noticeable slinking than he was wagging his tail vaguely.

The village itself hadn't changed much— they passed the same shops and the same two pubs as Sirius rooted through garbage cans. Regulus would normally have leapt into them to take a look, but he was up to his belly in snow and didn't have the traction for the leap. The only truly obvious difference was the parchment that seemed to be tagged to most business doors.

Once Sirius had as many papers as would fit in his mouth, the two turned back. Regulus squinted at the signs as they walked, but the snow, which had been falling gently all day, was picking up so it was almost a storm. He figured if they were omnipresent, the papers were probably important as well, so he scrambled atop a low-lying window ledge and leapt at the nearest door, grabbing the parchment in his jaws.

Sirius watched him with one brow raised, a rather human expression that looked comical on the dog. Sincerely hoping no one was watching, Regulus raised one of his own in reply.

The big black dog shook his head and the two made their way back into the forest, stopping one more time to allow a pair of giggling Gryffindor girls to pat Sirius's head and try to coax Regulus out of the alley he'd ducked into.

* * *

"So what was that all about?" Sirius asked as they returned to human form. "That note on all the doors?"

Regulus took the missive out of his mouth and scanned it. "That's the one and only trip we're taking into Hogsmeade," he announced.

"Why?"

"Because they're sending dementors in there after dark, and I don't care if I have to stun you, we're not risking it," Regulus answered.

Sirius shuddered, and not just from the cold. "Trust me, Reggie, you won't have to stun me."

"I thought I might not. Anything good in the papers?"

"No one thinks they've seen me around here since Halloween, I guess you could call that good," Sirius answered. "Rita Skeeter's written a Ministry-bashing article about how they've yet to catch me." He grinned, clearly self-satisfied.

"Anything else?"

"The Eagles beat the Tornados in the National final," Sirius replied absently, flipping through the sports section.

"Other than Quidditch scores and you?"

"Honestly, Reggie, this close to Christmas it's mostly fluff and Holiday sales ads," Sirius pointed out. "And Quidditch finals. You can look at the other one if you want."

Regulus picked up the second of the two papers, but the only article of interest just showed that Rita Skeeter seemed fond of bashing the Ministry of Magic. He glanced back up at the canopy, where the tree branches were heavily laden with snow. "You know, winter's really starting to get a bit harsh even this deep in the Forest," he said conversationally.

Sirius looked up from the sports section. "Yeah, I've been thinking about that."

"Ye Gads, the mad thinks!"

"Reggie, shut up! I know of a place that nobody would think to look for us— the Whomping Willow's planted over it. Remus used to use it full moons, but I've kept an eye on the passage entrance and I've never seen him, so apparently he's using something else now—"

"Probably Wolfsbane," Regulus murmured.

"Wha'?" Sirius asked absently, startled at the interruption.

"Lupin's probably been using Wolfsbane instead of a hideout," Regulus repeated.

"I heard you the first time, Reggie," said Sirius, rolling his eyes. "Let me rephrase: What _is_ Wolfsbane? And why don't I know about it?"

"You shouldn't; it was only invented in the last year or so— it was big news last spring. It's a potion designed to make werewolves safe. . . . Well, as I understand it, they keep their human minds, so it would make _Lupin_ safe. I'd hazard a guess it would make someone like Grayback that much more dangerous."

"No kidding," Sirius mumbled, running his fingers distractedly through his hair. "Anyway, if Remus isn't using the place, we can, and that'll get us out of the snow."

"The Whomping Willow's planted over it?"

"I believe that's what I said, Reggie."

It was Regulus's turn to roll his eyes. "I don't suppose asking you how you intend to get past the flailing branches would do me any good?" he asked dryly.

"There's this knot . . . you know, this's easier to demonstrate than explain, and everyone's at Hogsmeade or at least inside right now, so let's go." Sirius folded the paper and stood up.

"Sometimes I wonder if you haven't gone insane. . . ." Regulus mumbled, following him.

It took Sirius some coaxing to get his brother under the Whomping Willow, even after he'd dodged the branches and gotten to the knot that froze it. By the time Regulus actually came forward, Sirius had to press the knot again so he didn't get pounded. Once they'd found the passage— which wasn't as easy as it should have been; the entrance was covered in snow the tree had shaken off— however, both of them got out of sight of the branches happily. They emerged in a hallway, sneezing from the dust their appearance had stirred up.

"Wait a second; is this the _Shrieking Shack?_" Regulus demanded.

"Well, yeah. . . ." Sirius answered. He was absently drawing designs in the quarter inch-thick layer of dust coating a table.

"Lupin used to come up _here_? Didn't the ghosts mind?"

Sirius looked up with a grin. "There were never any ghosts, Reggie, just Remus breaking things and howling. And James or I knocking him against the wall to keep him from getting out of control," he added as an afterthought.

"Well, that means nothing's been in here for fifteen years," Regulus observed. "We've got a bit of cleaning up to do, haven't we?"

The next few weeks passed in relative peace. What time they didn't spend hunting— it was getting harder to find game since most of the rabbits had gone into hibernation, so they were going out more and more often— they spent cleaning fifteen years of dust out of three or four of the rooms and arguing over how much dust needed to be cleaned out before it actually became inhabitable.

* * *

Crookshanks was introduced to the Shrieking Shack, and spent most of his first visit further shredding some already tattered bed curtains. Sirius sent him out with an order to send to Diagon Alley, since Regulus had failed completely to convince him that sending his godson a broomstick anonymously was only going to arouse suspicion, and that Sirius and Harry would have plenty of time to get to know each other _after_ his name was cleared.

"Reggie, this place is clean enough," Sirius told him as he walked into a bedroom that Regulus was scouring _again_.

"No, it is not," Regulus answered. "You only think it is because you're a self-confessed slob who won't even let me cut your hair again."

"I don't look that bad," Sirius answered, watching his brother blow cobwebs off the ceiling with his wand.

"Comparatively, no, you don't," Regulus admitted. He stopped syphoning off the cobwebs and turned to his brother. "Hard to believe we've put up with each other for almost four months, isn't it? August eighth to December twenty-fourth."

"Christmas Eve already?" Sirius asked, leaning against the doorframe. "Did you bring that up for a reason?"

"Not really, although it would be nice if you did me one favor for the holidays," Regulus answered.

"What's that?"

"Let me sleep til noon."

Sirius laughed, but he actually obliged, and Crookshanks, who had come prancing into the Shrieking Shack sometime that morning, was not allowed to pounce on him until nearly one in the afternoon.

Regulus groaned and set the attacking cat on the floor, where he leapt straight back onto the bed. "You know, you used to sleep later than me, Sirius. What happened?"

Sirius shrugged. "In Azkaban, the nightmares come no matter what you do. When you're awake, on the other hand, thinking about them is optional."

"Oh." An awkward silence descended for a few minutes, until Crookshanks broke it by violently demanding Regulus's attention.

Sirius grinned at the mewing cat. "You know, one of us needs to go catch Christmas dinner," he remarked, perfectly cheerful. While Regulus felt awkward from the previous exchange, Sirius was clearly not too troubled by it.

"Let's both go. Then we might actually get something."

"Fair enough." Sirius picked up the cat. "You can go back up to Hogwarts and go rat-hunting," he told Crookshanks, who seemed to smirk as he leapt out of Sirius's arms and wandered out.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Hey all! There's not much to say about this chapter (or about the reviews from the last one). So, thank you everyone who's reviewed, and welcome aboard to snape'smistress-in-law and hornhead. Cheers! -- Loki


	8. Patronuses and Passwords

Remus Lupin tipped the boggart into the cupboard under his desk. It didn't want to go, and he had to shake the packing case it was currently in to make it slide out. Along the way it further attempted to evade capture by turning into the full moon. "I am not _that_ afraid of the moon, and you can't have the same effect on me," he told it irritably, pushing it into the drawer. "I'm just afraid of what may happen under its influence."

The boggart made a grumbling noise as Remus shut the door, as if it wasn't so sure. Remus, after all, was a bit paler than usual and on the verge of shaking as he dropped into the chair behind his desk.

He'd known when he agreed to help Harry that the subject of Lily and James was unavoidable. He'd thought he could handle it, and the only time his composure had faltered was the first time James had come up. After all, he'd had twelve years for that pain to fade.

Sirius, on the other hand . . . he wasn't entirely sure that he'd ever be comfortable talking about Sirius. It had come more or less out of nowhere, and sometimes he still didn't believe it. He supposed Sirius's mask had been too good, enough that he couldn't find any point at which he knew Sirius had started wearing it.

He wondered absently how much Harry knew. He wouldn't have expected anyone to tell Harry about Sirius— someone may have told him about Peter, perhaps, and maybe Remus himself if it was the right person telling the tale. Neither Peter nor Remus had become Death Eaters, after all, so despite the early end of the former and the lycanthropy of the latter, they made much better stories. Well, he was James's son, so there was always the chance he'd overheard it eavesdropping, and in that case he'd probably heard it recently, which would explain how he'd said it, like an afterthought.

The boggart let out another groan underneath his desk, and Remus kicked the drawer. "You can shut up, can't you?" he asked it.

The desk shook noisily in reply.

"I suppose that's why you get caught and disposed of soon after you find someplace to stay," he commented, wondering absently if he ought to put some sort of silencing spell on the drawer to keep it from distracting him.

_Except when I'm moping, like I am now,_ he decided. _When I'm moping it can distract me all it likes._ He kicked the drawer again and got up to do something constructive.

* * *

A month, and with it four dementor lessons and one transformation, passed quickly for Remus, who certainly had enough on his mind without brooding on the past. The only time he almost started again was when he found another article about Sirius in the corner of the _Daily Prophet_. The dementors' power had been increased again— before, they had been authorized to use the Kiss if they caught Sirius. Now, they were going to be allowed to use it regardless of who found him.

For a minute or so Remus sat staring at the article, the memories of the teenage boy waging a fierce battle with Peter's murderer inside of him as he tried to form a coherent opinion on what he'd just read. Then the boggart in the cupboard under his desk rattled the entire piece of furniture, knocking Remus out of his reverie and reminding him that he had another Patronus lesson with Harry in half an hour.

Somehow after he came back after that lesson he managed to force the glowing orb back into its drawer and slump into his chair without much thought. Then his eyes fell on the _Daily Prophet_ he'd left atop the flood of papers on his office desk, which brought him back to a subject he'd been deliberately avoiding. "How much do you know, Harry?" he asked absently.

_He _still wasn't sure whether or not Sirius— or anyone, really— deserved to have his soul destroyed. For a moment he distracted himself, wondering if there was _anyone_ he thought did. The only name he could think of was Voldemort's, if he was still in some semblance alive. Sirius and Grayback didn't even make the list, as much as he would like to see at least the latter dead. But then again, with Sirius there was always the chance that his memories of the laughing little boy and gangly young dog, still half a puppy when they'd first shown up in the Shrieking Shack, were interfering with his better judgement.

The dog. . . . Remus shook his head. He knew he really ought to tell Dumbledore that Sirius was an Animagus; after all, it was possible that he was just slipping past the dementors as an animal. But no . . . wizards lost their powers if they were around dementors too long, and so he _wouldn't_ be able to shape-shift.

_Then how did he get out in the first place?_ asked a nasty little voice in his head.

The boggart rattled the desk, knocking Remus out of his deepening gloom again.

So perhaps Sirius could still use his magic; that didn't mean he was using his Animagus form. There had to be a dozen ways of getting out of Azkaban and into Hogwarts by using the dark arts, and even if he wasn't Remus would probably be better off drawing Dumbledore's attention to the few secret passageways Filch didn't know about, perhaps for more than one reason. Remus wasn't entirely satisfied with Harry's explanation about the butterbeer, after all, and it was possible he was using one of them to get out and put himself in even more danger than he was already in. The Shrieking Shack had probably already been searched, but there was the one through Honeyduke's and the one behind the mirror that either Harry or Sirius could be using.

"And maybe," he said aloud, "I just ought to find something else to do besides brood and rationalize. Damn you, Sirius."

_Or maybe just get out of Britain and don't come back,_ he couldn't help but add silently.

* * *

Crookshanks pranced cheerfully into the Shrieking Shack, his bottlebrush tail held high and a piece of parchment between his teeth. He leapt onto a desk and then onto Regulus's shoulders, rubbing against his ears and knocking his glasses askew. The cat was emitting a muffled purring noise through the paper he carried.

"Yes, yes, hello," Regulus greeted him irritably, shoving his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. "I wasn't precisely busy, I s'pose." He reached up for the paper. Crookshanks let him have it, but not without hooking his claws around the man's wrist and letting out an irritated "Rowr." Clearly whatever the message was, it was for Sirius.

"Sirius would have to chose the most bad-tempered feline in Hogwarts to befriend, wouldn't he?" Regulus muttered, pulling out his wand to heal his wrist.

For some reason, this remark caused Crookshanks to purr in a self-satisfied way. If Regulus hadn't already been positive that Crookshanks took pleasure in injuring people and that cats understood English perfectly, that would have convinced him.

He set the parchment on the desk, pointed his wand at the cuts, and muttered the spell under his breath. Healing with a spell brought intense pain, but at least it was only a moment's worth, better than two weeks of looking at scabs.

As he put his wand back into his pocket, the black dog came out of the tunnel's opening, the back leg of a rabbit swinging between his jaws. Sirius tossed it onto the table and transformed back into a human being.

"So you actually caught something," Regulus commented. "I'm debating wether or not to be surprised, since it's been two weeks since you last managed to. I hadn't realized the rabbits had come out of hibernation yet."

"Yeah, yeah, it's not as if you're luck has been astonishingly better," Sirius retorted. "What's the cat doing back?"

Regulus shrugged, nearly dislodging Crookshanks, who hissed angrily. Sirius lifted the ginger monster off of his brother before Regulus got hurt any worse. "I dunno, really," Regulus admitted. "He was carrying this bit of parchment" —he pulled it out from under the rabbit's shoulders— "but he scratched me when I tried to take it out."

Sirius took it and unfolded it as Crookshanks tried, mostly unsuccessfully, to make his way to and balance on his thin shoulders. Regulus pulled out a penknife and started skinning the rabbit. "Anything interesting?"

"Frankly, Reggie, this doesn't make a lot of sense," Sirius admitted. "It's just a list of random words. A very _long_ list."

Regulus took it back and scanned the column. "'Scurvy Cur' and "Oddsbodkins,'" he read. "These sound like the sorts of things Sir Cadogan used to shout at random passerby."

"You remember him, too?" Sirius asked, grinning absently.

"They were the weirdest two conversations I've ever had that didn't involve you," Regulus pointed out. "Things like that tend to stick in your mind." He glanced over at Crookshanks. "Who exactly took over for the Gryffindor guardian, cat?"

Sirius's eyes widened with recognition. "Exactly! They're passwords, aren't they?"

Crookshanks rubbed against Sirius's ears and purred.

Sirius looked back down at the list. "I wonder how much longer they're current," he mused.

Regulus pointed to the numbers in the upper left hand corner of the parchment. "It's dated. You've got . . . 'til Saturday, I think. Counting tonight, three days. Anything particular going on between now and then?"

"There's the Gryffindor-Ravenclaw Quidditch game tomorrow."

"And if Gryffindor wins, everyone'll be tired enough to fall asleep quickly after McGonagall goes to break the celebration up," Regulus admitted. "And if they don't everyone'll still be asleep by . . . one-thirty in the morning or so. They'll just be a bit more likely to wake up. You going tomorrow night, then?"

"You're not trying to hold me back?"

"I want your name cleared as much as you do, and at least this time you're guaranteed to get in," Regulus pointed out. "Let's face it, you're not likely to get a better opportunity. And it's not as if _I_ could easily find my way up to Gryffindor Tower, is it?"

Sirius chuckled. "I'll give you that."

"Sirius, I'm not blind," Regulus reminded him. The Quidditch match was over, and he was stretched out on a threadbare sofa in the Shrieking Shack, the pillows and one of the cushions of which he'd already chucked at his brother. "I did see the final score."

Sirius looked over at him, a maniac grin on his face. "You were rooting for Ravenclaw, weren't you?" he asked.

"That depends," his brother answered dryly. "Are you going to continue gloating if I say 'yes'?"

Sirius tossed the sofa cushion back to him. "I'm going to continue gloating whether you were or not," he announced with the same maniac cheerfulness that had made him such an infuriating teenager.

"In that case, yes, I was," Regulus admitted. "I already told you that I don't root for Gryffindor." He shrugged. "So they've won one and lost one— that means they've still got a chance for the cup. Except . . . their last match is against Slytherin, isn't it?"

Sirius snorted. "I hate to rain on your parade, Reggie, but—"

"Yes, yes, I know your bias, and you know mine. You've got to admit that with the rivalries between the two Houses, it's always been the most interesting match of the season."

"I dunno. As much as I like to watch Slytherin get crushed, I'm not that picky about who's doing the crushing."

"Sirius. . . ." Regulus sighed, but he was a hair's breadth from laughing at his brother's usual enthusiasm for Quidditch. He'd been nearly as bad as Potter, even though he didn't play. "Aren't we at least pretending to be mature adults?"

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Clearly you've never been to the World Cup. So . . . when are you letting me go after Peter again?"

Regulus took off his watch and tossed it to his brother. To his great surprise, Sirius— who was not usually the most coordinated person in the universe— caught it. "When that says one-thirty, I'll let you go," he announced. "By then everyone'll have gone to bed and you'll have a decent chance of finding him before someone wakes up. And, well . . . if they catch you after you've got him, Dumbledore'll hear you out and you'll be able to prove it."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Sorry about the angsty!Remus we got in the first two scenes of this chapter. I tried three times before I realized that I couldn't make those scenes _not_ angsty. Anyway, reviews . . . Gabwr: don't worry about it; I'm just happy to hear from you. Jackline: I dunno; I see Sirius as a fairly impulsive, rash person, and telling Snape about the knot on the Willow, among other things, certainly points to a reckless man. There are a few things that would make him shudder other than the dementors, but we haven't met them yet, nor will we in 1993. And Sirius and Regulus's relationship . . . well, there are a number of reasons I'm takingthe brother thingslow. Both of them have been through a lot, and neither is entirely ready to open up and discuss it. But thanks for a review that really made me think about my answers! To everyone else: Thanks very much for all your reviews! Cheers! -- Loki


	9. Foiled Again

Sir Cadogan had apparently gotten into Gryffindor House's spirit of celebration, because he was busy enjoying a bottle of mead with his fat pony when Sirius padded into the corridor and switched from dog form to human form. The movement caught the pony's eye and he whinnied in alarm.

Sir Cadogan looked up. "What?" he demanded hazily, as if half-afraid Sirius was an apparition.

"I need to get in," Sirius told him.

The little knight shook his head, the metal helmet clanging against the raised shoulder guards, and drew his sword. He waved it wildly and for a few dangerous seconds of each swing, it looked as if he might overbalance. "A likely tale! I shall call for a teacher or some other auth—"

Sirius rolled his eyes. Same mad little knight. "I've got passwords."

Sir Cadogan lifted his visor, the better to gape at Sirius. "You— you do?" he asked faintly.

Sirius waved the paper in front of him and unfolded it. "Yes, I do."

"Well, why didn't you say so?" the knight demanded, shoving his sword back into his scabbard before he lost it. "Let us have them!"

"Not so loud." Sirius answered. "Now let's see if I can guess the right one. Oddsbodkins?"

"Indeed not!"

"All right, then. . . ." Sirius squinted at the paper, but making out the handwriting in the dark was difficult. King. . . Kingston am?" he asked.

Sir Cadogan's hand landed once again on his sword hilt. "That was never a password, you scurvy—"

"Take it easy. I think you're scaring your mount," Sirius told him. He could see the whites of the pony's eyes and the animal had backed away from his master so far that only his head was still in the portrait, and his rear was in a picture of a now disgruntled family of cats.

The knight turned around to see his pony and held out a gauntleted hand. The pony only backed further into the next portrait and the mother cat yowled irritably. "Perhaps I am. Or perhaps it's you!"

"It's you. I don't have a sword. And this kid has horrid handwriting. King's Ransom, maybe?"

"No, the password has already changed! If that is all you have, I shall now get the local lor—"

"I have a _list_," Sirius repeated, just starting to get irritated. "That generally means more than two. I'll _tell_ you when I'm out of passwords, and then you can go get the headmaster." _While I run out of the castle as fast as four legs can carry me,_ he added silently.

Sir Cadogan agreed to this reluctantly and let Sirius read off his passwords, only shaking his head for the next four or five words as Sirius read them off. Finally, "Yellow dog" hit the jackpot, and the portrait swung open.

Sirius shook his head and climbed in, too close to getting at Peter to truly be irritated.

Before he could guess at the appropriate boy's dormitory, he caught sight of a pair of shining eyes glowering at him from an armchair by the fire. He tensed, wondering if he ought to flee, but then Crookshanks leapt off the seat and into the dying light of the fire.

"Did you know I was coming or something?" Sirius asked softly, leaning down to stroke Crookshanks's head. The cat didn't reply, only twitched his bottlebrush tail. "So, where's Peter?"

Crookshanks shook Sirius's hand off and obligingly led him up the spiral steps of a tower and into the a boy's dormitory. There were five beds in it, the boys within them apparently fast asleep. Sirius looked down at the cat. "Well?" he whispered.

Crookshanks sprang atop one of the trunks, which Sirius took as an indicator of which bed Peter was in. He drew his knife and pulled back the curtains with such ferocity that they ripped. He glanced at them for a moment, but then he shrugged and turned back to the bed itself. There was Harry's redheaded friend beneath the sheets, but he didn't see any sign of Peter.

While he looked around for a corner that Peter may have wedged himself in, the boy stirred, rolled over, and eventually opened his eyes blearily. "Hunh?" he mumbled.

Sirius tensed, hoping that the kid wasn't awake enough to really see anything and would just close his eyes and roll over again.

He wasn't lucky. The boy's eyes widened in recognition and he yelled. Sirius bit back a string of curses and left as quickly as he could. Crookshanks leapt off the trunk and followed him back into the common room. Sirius made his way to the portrait hole with the cat still on his heels. "No, you stay here," he muttered, pushing it open.

Crookshanks remained in the common room after Sirius climbed out and slammed it shut once again. Because Sir Cadogan and his rotund pony were staring after him, he waited to round the corner before turning into the big black dog again and sprinting out onto the grounds four-leggedly.

He paused, panting by the Greenhouses, to consider his options. He decided the Shrieking Shack probably wasn't the wisest choice, since if a teacher looked out the window, they might become suspicious if they saw the Whomping Willow utterly still— especially if it was Remus or Professor Sprout who happened to be doing the looking. He certainly couldn't stay here; they'd be searching the grounds again for sure. That left hiding out in the Forbidden Forest for the rest of the night. Well, he certainly knew every inch of that terrain, and once he caught his breath he set off for it once again.

It was two o'clock in the afternoon before Sirius reentered the tunnel to the Shrieking Shack. In his hurry to get back and explain that for once he wasn't late due to idiocy, he bowled over a familiar-looking grey fox. Sirius lowered his head as the fox sprang back up and nodded to him, and both canines returned to the old house.

Once there, both transformed to talk. Before Sirius could say anything, Regulus started on him. "What took you so long? I was worried sick and just going out to look for you!"

"I got caught," Sirius mumbled. "Someone in the boy's dormitory woke up and saw me, so I had to get out of there quickly, and I didn't figure coming back here was wise if I had someone on my tail."

Regulus opened his mouth as if to argue, then quickly closed it. "You're right," he said softly. "This time it wasn't your fault."

"This time?"

"Well, last time you attacked a portrait and yes, that was your fault," Regulus pointed out. He slumped into the nearest chair. "But never mind that. This means doubling the already doubled security." He shook his head. "If I didn't know you'd kill me for suggesting giving up, I'd point out that southern France really is quite nice this time of year."

"I'm not just running away!" Sirius snapped.

"Regardless of whether or not it comes down to a choice between your pride and your soul?" Regulus demanded, rubbing his temples. "You're the only brother I've got, Sirius. I'm not letting you get yourself worse than killed, even if I have to stun you and Apparate us both to France to do it!"

"You won't. Reggie, I promise," Sirius bit his lip, sat down in the desk chair, and pulled both the old _Daily Prophet_ photo and his list of passwords out of his pockets. "I realize I've broken a lot of promises, and maybe it isn't the easiest thing to believe me on, but. . . ." He hesitated. "This is more than just revenge. Remus and Harry both deserve the truth, Reggie."

"I know." Regulus shook his head. "I can't honestly say I completely understand, but I know. It's why I haven't already stunned you and Apparated us both to the south of France for your own good."

"I thought that was because you wanted my name cleared," Sirius remarked, absently balling up the list of passwords.

"Well, that, too. But mostly because I knew you wouldn't have escaped and then come barreling straight into danger unless you had some desperate reason not just to get away but to clear your name, too."

"Good. Now what do we do?"

"Watch. Wait. What we've been doing since we got here and will be doing until Pettigrew is in Azkaban instead of you."

Sirius scowled. "I'm still not sure he's going to live that long," he growled.

"He's got to live long enough to tell Dumbledore the truth, and I doubt the headmaster is going to let you commit murder in front of him," Regulus muttered, barely loud enough for Sirius to hear. But he seemed to give up. Perhaps this was, again, something he knew, even if he didn't understand.

* * *

Neither of them had thought of anything to do or summoned the energy to move by the time Crookshanks reappeared in the Shrieking Shack, again carrying something in his mouth. He leapt onto the desk Sirius was seated beside and dropped the objects on his lap.

Sirius, who had nearly fallen asleep, looked up in alarm. "What?"

Regulus looked up. "The cat's back, and he's got something for you," he announced absently, getting to his feet. "What is it?"

"Looks like a piece of a sheet," Sirius answered, picking it up. "And some of his own hairs, unless he's shedding really badly."

Regulus reached over and stroked Crookshanks along the spine. "His skin seems healthy enough to me, so I'd say he was carrying those hairs with him. The question is why." He shook his head. "I hate these guessing games."

"There's blood on the sheet," Sirius remarked absently.

"Well, then it's something to do with violence. And since it's all the cat ever comes to us with information for, it's got to have something to do with Pettigrew. . . ." Regulus shrugged and continued stroking Crookshanks, who had closed his eyes lazily.

"Peter . . . blood . . . cat hairs. . . ." Sirius muttered. For several minutes he sat staring at the sheet and repeating himself. Then he got it. "Peter faked his death."

"_Again_?"

"Why not? It worked once. And from what I heard from the redhead with the rat, Crookshanks has been pouncing at Peter all year, so it just makes logical sense to frame the cat. . . ." He shook his head. "Damn."

"Well, he can't have gone far," Regulus informed him. "Peter had to have disappeared in the last few days, because Crookshanks would have brought that news to us as quickly as possible."

"Not that it does _us_ a lot of good," Sirius pointed out gloomily. "After all, we don't know where he is anymore."

"We know where he isn't. Where's Pettigrew likely to hide?" Regulus asked. "And how long is he going to stay there?"

"Well, Peter's not going to want to move around much once he's comfortable," Sirius admitted, "and we all knew the Forbidden Forest pretty well, but if he hid there we could look forever and still never find him. I can't really think of any other easily accessible places."

"I don't see what other choice we have but to scour the Forest anyway," Regulus pointed out. "Unless, of course—"

"The remainder of that sentence better not have the phrase 'south of France' anywhere in it," Sirius interrupted warningly.

"All right, all right, we start scouring the Forbidden Forest," Regulus consented. "Later. Right now I'm going hunting and you're going to bed."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Hard to believe I've been posting this over two months, isn't it? I really, honestly, and truly meant to update this yesterday. Then I had a fight with my connection, followed by a fight with the site's servor before giving up in disgust. Anyway, thanks everyone for the reviews, and I'm glad no one was annoyed by Remus's angst. Jackline: It seems like there's a wall because there is. _is pleased someone noticed_. It's mostly Sirius's making, and since Regulus is a bit more aloof by nature he's not going to push it until it absolutely _needs_ to be broken down. Cheers! -- Loki


	10. The Map's Reappearance

"I can't believe them," Remus muttered as he stalked back into the office Snape had summoned him from, looking down at the map he'd just confiscated from Harry and Ron. The insults scrawled across it in the familiar handwriting were only beginning to fade, which was strangely irritating. Remus traced James's nickname with one finger before it disappeared, then tossed the parchment atop his overcrowded desk. "I can't believe _us_, either," he added, more absently this time. After all, the map's reappearance brought back a mixed bag of old memories.

The Marauder's Map. . . . Filch had confiscated it in their seventh year; Sirius and James had been furious about that. Somehow, however, it had escaped from the file drawer and found its way into Harry's possession, and he'd been using it to get out of the school.

Lily would have been furious that the boy was putting himself in so much danger. James wouldn't have been happy, either, but the minute his wife had stalked off he would have been after the whole story— after all, none of _them_ had managed to get it back. Remus was more inclined to agree with Lily: He didn't _care_ how Harry had gotten it, he just thought using it had been astoundingly stupid.

"Lupin," said a soft voice from the doorway, knocking him out of his reminisce.

Remus sighed. "Just once, Severus, could you actually knock before you come in?" he asked, turning around.

Snape, who was still standing in the doorway, raised an eyebrow.

Remus considered the situation for a few moments. "It's more than a week until the full moon, and you've spent most of this year avoiding me," he pointed out. "So what brings you here?"

Instead of answering him, Snape seemed to interpret the question as an invitation in, and he swept over to Remus's desk. "I see you confiscated it," he observed. There was a distinct edge to his voice.

Remus kept his own tone mild. "Yes, I did."

"If it was only a piece of paper designed to insult someone," Snape remarked with an air of forced calm, "then why confiscate it?"

"Because you could hardly call it appropriate," Remus answered with a shrug. "I mean, we—" He stopped. He hadn't meant to remind Snape, on the very slim chance he'd forgotten.

"We?" the Potion's Master repeated, his voice dangerously soft and the edge to it even more apparent. He glanced back at Remus, his brows raised.

"The only Potter I meant by 'we,' Severus, was James," Remus told him, still nonchalant, although that facade was beginning to take effort to maintain. "You undoubtably remember why I might now find James's sense of humor inappropriate?"

Snape raised his eyebrow's further and picked up the map. He drew his wand and hesitated with it raised over the parchment before shoving it back into his robes. There was, after all, no reason the demand should work any better this time. "I still think Potter got it directly from the manufacturers, Lupin," he muttered.

Remus shook his head, pretending to misunderstand. "I somehow doubt James left old mischief-making supplies in the care of his sister-in-law," he pointed out dryly.

Snape glanced from the parchment to Remus, and his lip curled. "That's not what I was implying," he pointed out quietly.

"Well, Peter is no longer alive and Sirius is hardly going to hand Harry an old keepsake of his and explain how to use it," Remus reminded him. "So I suppose you're indicating that _I_ gave it to him sometime this year. And since you obviously think he used it to get into Hogsmeade as well. . . ." He hesitated again, wondering how best to phrase the retort. "I am not by any means going to help Harry get himself killed."

Snape's eyes narrowed, and his lip curled further. "Well, Lupin, we know you can act, and I may speak to the Headmaster about—"

"Severus, I've heard— and yes, overheard on several occasions— too many of those remarks this year not to know what you suspect," Remus reminded him, his own tone freezing over. "But Dumbledore trusts the both of us, and unless my memory fails me, _you're_ the one on his second chance."

Snape stiffened as if he'd been struck.

For a moment or so Remus wondered what had possessed him to say that— after all, he'd always been the one trying to _prevent_ Snape-baiting, not to instigate it— and for another moment he considered apologizing for what had been a fairly low blow. But no, he'd put up with too many snide remarks about lycanthropy this year not to find some grim satisfaction in getting to Snape in turn.

Snape recovered quickly, anyway, and tossed the paper back onto the desk. "So . . . out of an idle curiosity, how do _you_ think Potter found it?" he sneered.

Remus shrugged. "It's probably one of the devices Filch managed to confiscate," he answered. "Someone— perhaps the Weasley twins, perhaps Harry and Ron themselves— must have stolen it and discovered how to work it. Of course, this is all speculation, so no one can actually be punished for it," he added, to ensure that Snape didn't proceed to assign four detentions.

"You've put a lot of thought into this," Snape remarked, still trying to get a rise out of his old enemy.

"You gave me ten minutes to think about it, and I can't deny I'm as curious as you are about it," Remus answered. "Now, I have essays to grade, and I'm sure there are some poor first years you're due to terrorize," he added, gesturing to the clock. "If you insist, we can continue this discussion later."

Snape stared at him for a long moment and then stalked off.

Once he was sure Snape was gone, Remus retreated behind the desk and unfolded the map. He knew he really shouldn't, but he was in just enough of a nostalgic mood to ignore the promptings of his conscience for ten minutes. He drew his wand and touched the old parchment. "I solemnly swear I am up to no good," he murmured. "After all, were I up to good I would be bringing this straight to Dumbledore. And I still might— later."

The ink spread from his wand tip, as clearly as it had when they'd first developed it. Remus bent over it. Harry and Ron had listened to him and gone back to the Gryffindor common room and Snape was stalking in the direction of his office. Absently Remus cast his eye across the grounds— Hagrid was tending something in his garden, apparently with the help of Professor Sprout— and out into the Forbidden Forest, where Regulus Black was moving slowly along a unicorn trail.

Remus froze for a second and looked back where he thought he'd seen a dead man. Either Regulus's name had been lost among the thick trees or it had never been there in the first place. Remus thought he might have made out the Black surname, but he couldn't see a first name, so it was probably Sirius's.

He slumped back into his chair. "Mischief managed," he muttered, tapping the parchment. "God, I need to get a little more sleep."

* * *

"Hey! What was _that_ for?" Sirius demanded, picking up the sofa cushion that his little brother had just chucked at him.

"You're gloating again," Regulus told him dryly. He patted Crookshanks, who seemed to prefer the Shrieking Shack and two bickering Blacks to the noisy party that had inevitably developed in Gryffindor Tower. "If you don't stop it, I'm going to chuck the cat at you."

"Isn't that cruelty to animals?" Sirius asked.

"I dunno— wouldn't you be the one getting hurt?" Regulus asked mildly. He looked down at the cat on his lap. "You wouldn't mind flying over to say hullo to Sirius, would you?"

Crookshanks shot him a look that so clearly said "Not funny," that both Sirius and Regulus laughed, and the cat leapt disgruntledly from Regulus's lap to Sirius's.

"Well, you've got to admit that the Slytherin Seeker grabbing hold of the end of Harry's broom wasn't exactly fair play," Sirius contended.

"Well, yes, the Slytherin Seeker behaved like an idiot," Regulus admitted, stretching full length on the couch. "Anything else you need to add?"

"The beaters," Sirius reminded him.

Regulus lifted an eyebrow. "And you're going to try to tell me that no one else would have tried to disable the Keeper if they thought they could get away with it?"

"Well . . . okay, if they _really _thought Madame Hooch of the eagle eye wasn't going to catch them. . . ." Sirius admitted.

"I rest my case."

Sirius shrugged. "Well, it still wasn't exactly within the rules, Reggie— you've got to admit that, too."

Regulus rolled his eyes. "There are about three hundred ways to foul somebody in that game," he reminded his brother. "A _lot_ of technical rule-breaking doesn't get called."

"Most of those don't involve hurting somebody, though."

Regulus opened his mouth for a moment, then closed it again. "All right, I'll give you that. I'll also give you that Gryffindor won the Cup fairly. Now if only you wouldn't gloat. . . ."

Sirius grinned and started petting Crookshanks before the cat demanded it violently— his squashed face was staring up at Sirius and clearly looking for attention. "You know, I think Crookshanks has actually cured me of my dislike of cats."

Regulus, still stretched out on his back, raised his hands to the heavens imploringly. "And to imagine, I only tried for seven years with a cat who was actually _nice_!"

Sirius looked up from tickling Crookshanks behind the ears. "Anna could be a monster when she wanted to be," he reminded his brother.

"Yes. When she wanted to be. Crookshanks, on the other hand, is a decent member of the feline species _only_ when he wants to be." He propped himself up on his elbows to fix Crookshanks with a mocking glare. "Isn't that right, you foul-tempered little beast?"

Crookshanks purred.

Regulus laughed. "See, he admits it." He shook his head and returned to more serious subjects. "Judging by your empty-handed return, your morning hunting was unsuccessful?"

Sirius sighed. "Yeah. No signs of rats."

Regulus groaned. "I wasn't talking about rats, I was thinking more along the lines of rabbits. Forgive me, Sirius, but I had thought it obvious that we needed to eat."

Sirius didn't reply. Actually, he looked a little sheepish about his obsession, which was a rare occurrence. "I'm a little preoccupied," he admitted.

"I'd noticed." Regulus got to his feet and started towards the door. "It's getting a little dark to go out, especially considering what's in that Forest, but I'll go try for a few hours. After all, I'm not the one that's going to be distracted by the faintest sign that a rat might be around."

Sirius scowled. "Reggie—"

Regulus silenced his brother by shaking his head. "I'm not trying to get a rise out of you," he explained. "I'm simply pointing something out. If we want to eat for the next month or so, I'm going to be the one doing most of the hunting."

And before Sirius could think of another objection, he left.

* * *

Regulus did commandeer the hunting for the next six weeks. Sirius wasn't half as irritated as he knew he ought to be. Regulus was the better hunter anyway— he'd had thirteen years of practice hunting as a fox recently, after all, while Sirius had spent the last twelve in prison.

More importantly, however, freeing him of that obligation was also freeing him to continue Peter-hunting, although his luck remained dismal. He caught a few rats, all of which turned out to be depressingly ordinary. Regulus experimented in rat-cooking, which also didn't go very well.

Mostly, though, they waited, hoping for some sign that Peter was still near Hogwarts and could be found. Both Crookshanks and Regulus conspired to keep Sirius from brooding whenever he reentered the Shrieking Shack, and as annoying as Reggie got after awhile, he couldn't say he wasn't grateful for their efforts.

Thanks mostly to Regulus's absurdly good mental calendar and partially to a few snatches of conversation Sirius overheard while lurking near Hogwarts, they knew when exams began. This, if anything, made Sirius more tetchy and impatient. He'd wanted to get his name cleared before school let out. The first time he saw Harry in twelve years he had wanted it to be on mutually familiar ground, at Hogwarts. He didn't want to show up on his aunt and uncle's doorstep with some wild story, but it seemed he might have no choice.

The problem was partially in the plan he'd worked out in Azkaban. It had been the vague product of a half-mad man, and the only long term plans he'd made with Regulus were about what to do _after_ Peter was caught. Neither of them had simply expected it to take _this long._

_

* * *

_**Author's Note:** Hey all! I'm glad nobody really minded the Remus scenes because, obviously, here he is again! (I fangirl Remus as well as the Black brothers and I needed filler, sothe opportunity was too easy to take advantage of. . . .) Anyway, Jackline: According to Lexicorn, Sirius was born in late '59 or early '60, and Regulus in '61, so just a year. . . . And thanks everyone else for your reviews! Care to tell me what you think of this chapter? Cheers! -- Loki


	11. Finding Peter

"Sirius, the last exam gets out in fifteen minutes," Regulus reminded him, checking his watch yet again. "That means in twenty minutes the grounds are going to be swarming with teenagers, because it's a nice day. If we don't get back _now_, ten to one we'll be seen."

Sirius shrugged. "Frankly, Reggie, I don't care right now."

"Well _I_ do. We're going back to the Shrieking Shack right now if I have to stun you," Regulus announced, crossing his arms over his chest.

Sirius glared at his brother. Not for the first time, he considered just taking off into the Forest and getting rid of Regulus for the rest of his search, since his brother held him back in the name of safety so often and just would _not_ take risks. He was bigger and faster than Regulus, after all, even if Regulus was the one with a wand. And anyway, in undergrowth this thick he could probably lose Regulus before he even got his wand out. Sirius didn't even have to disappear until after his name was clear, just for the afternoon, to make a point— Reggie was _not_ his babysitter.

Then he shook his head. As much as he hated to admit it, especially considering the strength of his obsession, Regulus had a point. "I'm still not sure I care," he muttered.

Regulus raised his eyebrows skeptically. "Are we playing the 'I think Reggie's bluffing' game or do you honestly not care if I stun you?"

His brother shrugged. "A little of both."

Regulus shook his head, unfolded his arms, and stuck his hand in the same coat pocket as his wand. So much for disappearing before he drew it. "I've done worse that stun people, Sirius. I'm not proud of it, but stunning you to keep you from virtually committing suicide is not a big deal."

Sirius hesitated, his eyes on the pocket. He didn't doubt Regulus would draw it, so he tried logic. "We can wait to go back until it's dark and everyone's gone inside," he pointed out. "And then we can keep looking. We might even find him. I _know_ he's around here somewhere; he's _got_ to be. . . ." He faded off. Even to himself the argument sounded weak.

"Or you can go back out at night. We're hardly going to find Pettigrew sunning himself on a rock in the Forest, so either way we'll be tracking him by smell. And tonight's a full moon, so visibility will be less of a problem anyway."

"But. . . ." Again Sirius faded off. There really weren't any more 'but's to argue with. If Peter was still around, he was probably close to the castle, hoping to hear of Sirius's capture, and it was near the castle where students would notice a big black dog. "All right," he consented. "I'll go back out tonight."

Regulus smiled grimly. "Knew we'd get there eventually."

* * *

Not long after it got dark enough everyone would have gone back inside, Sirius abandoned a muttering Regulus to half-run down the tunnel as a dog and sprint past the Whomping Willow, which took a few swings at him as he disappeared partway into the Forest. He skirted the grounds with his nose to the wind, looking for the distinct scent of Peter and struggling to remember what it was.

Before too long the door to Hagrd's hut opened and nothing came out. Well, seemingly nothing. Sirius could smell something odd on the wind, something hauntingly familiar . . . Peter. At any rate he remembered it from moonlit romps and it certainly wasn't James or Remus. He moved in closer, still sniffing.

"Scabbers . . . Scabbers, no . . . _stay still!_ What's the matter with— OUCH!" yelled a voice suddenly from the thin air. "He bit me!"

Sirius smiled inwardly. An invisibility cloak. Peter was under it, along with a boy and maybe a few of his companions. Perhaps Harry was there— he'd probably inherited James's, after all.

And not only was Peter under it, he knew Sirius was after him. He knew enough to be terrified. Sirius stalked closer, still not entirely sure what he was going to do, only to catch sight of Crookshanks's yellow eyes coming at the noise from the opposite direction.

_No you stupid cat, I've got it,_ Sirius thought, but in the dark he could hardly try to communicate with the animal.

"Scabbers, what's gotten— _no_!"

The rat had apparently escaped from his captor, and the redheaded boy jumped out from under the cloak in hot pursuit. Crookshanks leapt after them, his claws outstretched. As Sirius padded over once again, Harry and Crookshanks's bushy-haired mistress came out from under the cloak themselves, running after their friend.

The fight with Crookshanks was both short and furious, but the boy won and started to straighten up, clutching his rat. Sirius hesitated. He probably wouldn't be able to separate the two again, but he wanted Peter, and he'd have to start his explanations somewhere. And if Harry and the girl followed their friend, he could explain everything to all three.

He padded over. Harry apparently heard him, his eyes straining in the dark to see the dog. He reached for his wand. No good. Sirius didn't want to be stunned, so he leapt at the boy, bowling him over and rolling off, then he rounded on the redhead and the rat again.

Apparently the other boy thought he was after Harry, because he stood up and made to get between Harry and the dog. Sirius leapt again and grabbed hold of his arm, then fled towards the Shrieking Shack and some relative safety, where none of the three children could call for help and dementors. Harry lounged at him in defense of his friend, but all he got was a handful of Sirius's ruff, and Sirius was too close to the goal that had consumed him for a year to really feel it as the hair was torn from the back of his neck. He kept heading towards the Willow.

The redhead fought him furiously, making dodging the branches extremely difficult, and a few of them nicked Sirius once or twice. Getting into the tunnel was even harder. The boy had hooked his leg around a root, and he couldn't break it and get him in. _Come on, come on,_ he thought, tugging one more time with even more ferocity.

There was a sickening crack as the leg broke, but the boy slid into the tunnel and Sirius shot off towards the Shrieking Shack again, hoping his brother would know what to do about broken bones.

* * *

Regulus was furious, but his rage was a quiet, cold, logical one. In fact, if the temperature of the room hadn't dropped by several degrees, Sirius might have thought his brother was only concerned.

When the elder brother entered dragging his two captives, Regulus stood up so quickly that his chair toppled over. "Sirius, let go of him and explain yourself. Now."

For once, the man obliged without putting up a fight. He let go of the boy by the bed and backed up as he returned to human form. "He's got him, Reggie. See the rat?"

"That was still no reason. . . ." Regulus sighed and looked over at the redhead, who was indeed clutching a skinny, balding rodent. He also looked exceedingly pale and a little green, whether from fear of Sirius, from pain, or from a combination of the two, Regulus couldn't tell. He sighed. "That leg's sticking out at an odd angle. You broke it, didn't you?"

Sirius nodded in defeat. "It was hooked around something and I tugged bit too hard. Still, Reggie, we've got him. And we can explain. . . ." He faded off under his brother's glower.

Regulus pointed to the boy. "You, up onto the bed. I want a look at that leg before we do another thing." He turned back to Sirius, and the temperature again lowered significantly. "Sirius, you are about to prove to me you can hold on for five damn minutes. Understood?"

Sirius nodded and leaned sullenly against the wall. Regulus smiled grimly. At least the one with some sense was also the one with the wand and the genuine criminal record— after all, at this point it might take threats to slow Sirius down enough to keep him from going back to Azkaban. He turned back to the boy, who appeared to be trying to follow orders and get onto the bed, but was having trouble standing. He grabbed at a bedpost to pull himself up, but Regulus strode over and grabbed him under the shoulder, tugging him to his feet. Even at thirteen, he was taller than the man. "Now sit down," Regulus ordered briskly.

The boy obeyed.

Regulus ran a hand along the boy's leg until he found the place the break really started and the boy yelped. "I'm sorry about this," he told him. "Azkaban only unhinged Sirius in couple of places, but it's still unhinged. Normally, though, he's as sane as you or I."

Sirius grumbled something.

"Oh, shut up. Whatever you said, I'll bet it's entirely beyond the point. I'm trying to decide whether this break's clean enough for me to fix or whether we ought to wait and take him to the Hogwarts nurse."

The boy muttered something likewise irrelevant.

Regulus ignored him, too, and continued his examination, still trying to be conversational. "Judging from the hair, I'll bet my life you're a Weasley, right?"

The boy hesitated but nodded.

"Which one?"

Before he could answer, Crookshanks strode into the room, his bottlebrush tail waving, and pounced onto the bed. Peter Pettigrew squeaked in alarm and tried with renewed vigor to escape the boy's clutches. "Get off, you stinking cat—"

"Crookshanks, no," Regulus growled, lowering the cat to the floor. It did no good; Crookshanks leapt right back up onto the bed, still watching Pettigrew intently out of those yellow eyes. But at least this time he made no move to pounce.

The boy didn't see it that way and tried to scoot farther away from the cat. Regulus grabbed his shoulder. "No. He's not going to hurt you or that rat, and you'll only hurt yourself worse."

"Than why's Scabbers still fighting?" the boy snapped, still struggling to keep a hold on his pet.

"Perhaps he doesn't understand. Or perhaps" —and here Regulus shot dark looks at both Pettigrew and Sirius— "perhaps he understands that there's a greater danger here, one that doesn't necessarily follow my orders."

"Yeah, Sirius Black!" He hesitated. "And who are _you_, anyway?"

Regulus smiled grimly. "I'm his little brother."

"Then you get away, too!" the boy exclaimed, pushing Regulus in the chest and startling him enough that he stumbled backwards several paces.

"Sirius, help," Regulus mumbled, and his brother made a move to stand up and approach. Then he looked back at the boy, who had gone the white-pale of new parchment and had moved back on the bed until he hit the wall. "On second thought, don't." He motioned for Sirius to lean back and tried to decide what ought to be done _now_. He had hoped that the first person they had to explain the situation to would be Dumbledore.

"Ron!"

The shout split the gathering silence and made both Blacks wince. It was definitely Harry's voice, and that in itself was nerve-racking. Regulus didn't like the prospect of trying to convince _two_ teenage boys of the truth, and he'd no doubt this wasn't how Sirius had pictured a reunion.

Shortly a girl called out Ron's name, too. _Oh, no, not three,_ Regulus thought, still trying to make a fast decision.

"Up here!" Ron hollered.

Harry and the girl burst into the room, knocking the door into Sirius and effectively concealing him from view.

The two looked around. "Ron, what's going on?" Harry demanded. He pointed to Regulus. "Who's he? Where's the dog?"

"Harry, it's a trap." Ron spoke quickly, as if afraid the two adults would pounce on them before he got everything out. "That's his brother, he's the dog—"

"What are you talking about?" the girl demanded.

"He's the dog— he's an Animagus," Ron said urgently.

Regulus was a bit faster on the uptake than either of the other kids, but before he could go stop him, Sirius pushed back the door, a faint, grim smile on his face. "Hullo, Harry."

* * *

**Author's Note:** And after ten and a half chapters, the confrontation finally begins. I really wanted to put this off another day and not update at my usual time, because I haven't run the entire confrontation by my beta yet, but, hey, these things happen and I think I have it right. Anyway, SupportSeverusSnape: I am building a bunker, because I know at least two of you are going to come after me in the next few chapters. Padfoot2446: Actually, he doesn't believe the evidence of his own eyes. Jackline: I know exactly how much longer this story is going to last (I'll hopefully finish it in the next couple of days), so I've started planning 1994. To everyone else, thank you so much for your reviews, too! Cheers! -- Loki


	12. Two Dead Men

The girl screamed.

Regulus cursed. He wanted to beat his head against something in frustration— or better yet, beat _Sirius's_ head against something. Harry didn't know, he didn't understand, and in all likelihood the world thought Sirius had broken out to kill him.

Sirius closed the door. "I thought you might come for your friend . . . Ron, you called him? At any rate your dad would've done it for me. At least you didn't run for a teacher. I'm grateful. Things would've gotten very difficult very quickly that way."

Harry scowled and raised his wand. Regulus reacted almost instinctively by raising his own and muttering, "_Expelliarmus!_" The wands flew out of Harry's, Ron's, and the girl's hands, and Regulus caught them and shoved them into the pocket of his jacket. "I don't want _anybody_ doing anything rash tonight," he snapped. "There's been too much idiocy involved in this incident already, and if we're not careful somebody's gonna get killed."

"That's the point, isn't it?" Harry asked savagely, glowering at Sirius. "To kill someone?"

"Yes," Sirius admitted.

Ron stood up and grabbed Harry just as he began to lunge. The girl grabbed him too, but it was the redheaded boy who spoke. "If you want to kill Harry, you'll have to kill us, too!"

Regulus started, "He's not going to—"

But Sirius cut him off with a slightly more pertinent comment. "I believe my brother told you to stay still or you'd damage that leg even more."

Ron, however, just tightened his grip on the struggling Harry and repeated himself. "Didn't you hear me? If you want Harry you'll have to kill all three of us."

"There's only going to be one murder here tonight," Sirius told him quietly.

"Sirius, we've talked about this," Regulus pointed out, not for the first time. "There shouldn't be _any._"

At the same time, Harry spoke up again. "Why's that?" he asked, struggling against his friends' grips. "You didn't care last time, did you— murdering all those Muggles to get at Pettigrew. Gone soft in Azkaban or something?"

"Harry, be quiet," the girl whispered, looking terrified.

"Yes, be quiet," Regulus agreed, glad to be in the company of at least one more sensible person. "Like I said, don't anyone do anything stu—"

But the last syllable of his plea was drowned out by Harry's shout. "HE KILLED MY MUM AND DAD!" And then he tore himself out of his friends' gasp and launched himself at Sirius. Sirius tried to back out of Harry's reach and was merely thrown against the wall when Harry actually hit him.

Regulus froze, doing some very quick thinking, trying to work out all the possibilities and consequences. It was a problematic habit in a fight and he knew it— most of the time someone was dead before he'd finished thinking and had a chance to act, usually whoever had been stupid enough to attack Bellatrix— but tonight he figured he had time. Doing things absolutely right was important tonight, and Sirius could handle his own for a few minutes: He wasn't up against a killer; he was up against James Potter's thirteen-year-old son. . . .

He hesitated a moment too long. The girl managed to shove Ron back onto the bed and pull the three wands out of Regulus's pocket, and he only barely managed to pull his own out of reach before she grabbed it. "Look, girl—"

"Hermione!" Ron exclaimed, getting back to his feet. His face was flushed with both fury and adrenaline, so he'd almost lost his pallor, and he grabbed Regulus's wrist and arm to protect his friend.

Again Regulus hesitated. Ron was bigger than him, which normally would have ended the fight regardless of anything else— Regulus was not a physical man and never had been. But Ron's leg was also broken. Normally Regulus would have used that against him, but he didn't want to hurt a thirteen-year-old boy any more than he already had been.

That hesitation gave Hermione enough time to seize his wand and turn to help Harry, and Ron to get a better grip on Regulus. Harry and Sirius were still fighting against the wall, and Sirius was having the same trouble his brother had— he didn't want to hurt Harry, which gave the kid the advantage. He'd just about been pushed to the ground when Crookshanks leapt off the bed and onto Harry's arm with a yowl. Harry threw the cat off and turned to Hermione. "You've got our wands?"

She hesitated, but nodded.

Harry held out his hand. "Give me mine and get back!"

Hermione didn't need telling twice. She handed over his wand, backed into Regulus, stumbled, and sidled out of the way.

Harry turned back to Sirius, but before he could do anything, Crookshanks took a second flying leap for his wand arm. Again Harry shook off the cat but the wand went flying. Both of them leapt for it— "No, you don't!" Harry growled, kicking at the ginger fury, who leapt out of the way. Harry grabbed his wand and finally rounded on Sirius.

Sirius had been gingerly checking himself over for serious wounds and was breathing hard— but then, so was Harry. He looked up at the boy standing over him. "Going to kill me, Harry?" he asked quietly.

Harry hesitated. "You killed my parents," he pointed out, his voice shaking.

For a moment the room froze, as if even the house was holding its breath. Then Sirius answered, very quietly, "I won't deny that. But if you knew the whole story—"

"I don't _need_ to know the whole story. You sold them to Voldemort."

"No, he didn't," said Regulus, trying unsuccessfully to jerk out of Ron's surprisingly strong grip. "Trust me, I would know."

"You've got to hear us out," Sirius agreed, and now there was some urgency in his voice. Regulus was unarmed now, after all, and Harry furious and nearly on top of Sirius. All bets were off and they both knew it. "Otherwise you'll regret it . . . you don't understand—"

"I understand better than you think," Harry answered, but he was shaking slightly and he still hadn't done anything. "You know what I hear, every time a dementor gets near me? My mum trying to stop Voldemort from killing me . . . and you did that. . . ."

Crookshanks took a third flying leap and landed on top of Sirius, glowering up at Harry and puffed to twice his usual size. "Get off," Sirius murmured, nudging the cat pointedly. But Crookshanks didn't move.

Again everyone froze, and the Shrieking Shack itself seemed to hold its breath, waiting for the next move.

Before anyone had done anything, however, there was a shuffling downstairs, as if someone had come in and was looking for them. Regulus glanced over to the shut door and swore.

That was enough to break the spell. Sirius made a move as if to stand back up, nearly knocking the cat off of him, and Harry brandished his wand again.

Hermione took a more sensible option. She screamed for help. "UP HERE— SIRIUS BLACK— COME QUICK!"

The footsteps started up the stairs, and now they seemed thunderously loud. Afraid Harry might do something in the few seconds he had left, Regulus tried to shake Ron off and go help his brother, but the boy held on, whimpering a little.

Then Remus Lupin burst into the room. "_Expelliarmus!_" he shouted. All four wands flew out of their owners' hands, and Lupin caught them. Then his eyes flicked over the room, from Harry, standing over Sirius and Crookshanks, to the panicked-looking Hermione, to Regulus and Ron. His eyes settled on Regulus and his own voice shook as he said softly, "I thought I was going mad. You're supposed to be dead."

* * *

Remus continued to stare at the man in front of him for a moment or two. He might not have been able to explain Peter, but he'd always told himself that Regulus Black was just Sirius, that his eyes were playing tricks with him. Now that the short, unshaven, bespectacled man was standing in front of him, he was still not sure whether or not to believe it.

"That's a. . . ." Regulus hesitated and managed to shake Ron off of him. "That's a pretty common misconception, Lupin."

In spite of himself, Remus smiled shakily. He desperately wanted to know how this man was standing before him, but he shook his head and returned to more pressing matters as he glanced back towards Harry and Sirius. Both Blacks had been through the mill lately— both were thin and pale and visibly bruised, as if they'd only been out at night and had a rough time even then. Sirius looked downright vampire-ish. But never mind that now. "Where is he, Sirius?"

Sirius hesitated, and then pointed over at Ron.

Of course. Ron had a pet rat. . . . "Then why hasn't he come out of hiding in the last twelve years? Unless" —and suddenly the answer occurred to him, the missing piece that made this entire year make sense— "unless he was the one, unless you switched without telling me."

Sirius just stared at him for a moment, Remus staring intently back. Then, slowly, he nodded.

"Professor Lupin," Harry started, "what's going on—?"

Harry never finished his sentence, or if he did Remus wasn't paying attention. He strode over, pulled Sirius to his feet, and embraced him. Crookshanks fell to the floor and ran over to leap into Regulus's arms, hissing indignantly.

Regulus hugged the cat and sighed with relief. "Finally." Harry and Ron both looked thunderstruck. Hermione, however, screamed.

"I DON'T BELIEVE IT!"

Remus froze. So she had known. With some effort he turned to Hermione. "I can explain."

"You and him! I don't believe it! I hadn't told anyone, all year I've been covering up for you—"

"Hermione, please," Remus implored, now a little urgent, "calm down, I can explain—"

"No!" Hermione exclaimed, still looking horrified and shaken. "Harry, don't trust him, he's been helping Black get into the castle, he wants you dead, too— _he's a werewolf_!"

Even Regulus, who had always seemed to know more than he should, and Sirius, who of course already knew the truth of everything she'd said, froze, staring at Remus. He sighed heavily. "Not up to your usual standard, I'm afraid, Hermione— only one out of three. I haven't been helping Sirius into the castle— I didn't even know Regulus was still alive until tonight— and I certainly don't want Harry dead, but" — he shuddered— "but I am a werewolf."

Ron, who had barely been on his feet since Regulus shook him off, finally lost his balance. Regulus reached out to grab him, but Ron pulled out of the man's grip and hit the ground with a whimper. Remus started over, since Ron obviously didn't want Regulus's help, but the boy only tried to back up further. "_Get away from me, werewolf_!"

Remus stopped. Regulus took advantage of the distraction to drop the cat and heave the boy onto the bed, and Remus turned back to Hermione. It took effort. "How long have you known?"

"Ages. Since I did Professor Snape's essay," she whispered.

"He'll be delighted, at least," Remus told her. "He assigned that essay hoping somebody would realize what I was. Did you recognize my boggart or realize I was always ill when the moon was full?"

"Both."

Remus laughed humorlessly. "You really are the cleverest witch of your age I've ever met," he announced.

"If I'd been a bit cleverer, I'd have told everyone!"

"But the staff knows. Dumbledore has worked very hard to convince everyone I'm trustworthy—"

"BUT HE WAS WRONG!" Harry bellowed. "YOU'VE BEEN HELPING HIM ALL THE TIME!"

"Not exactly," Regulus cut in quietly. "That was me."

The three teenagers turned to him, and Hermione said quietly, "And who _are_ you?"

"I already told your friend Ron. I'm Regulus Black, Sirius's brother," Regulus answered quietly. "And I've no reason to defend Lupin. He hasn't been in contact with Sirius, and I've no idea how he found us here."

"It was the Marauder's Map," Remus explained.

"You know how to work it?" Harry demanded.

"Of course I know how to work it," Remus answered impatiently. "I helped write it. I'm Moony— that was my friends' nickname for me in school."

"You _wrote_—"

"That's beyond the point," Remus snapped, testily waving away any other protests. "The point is that I was watching it carefully this evening because I thought the three of you might visit Hagrid before his hippogriff was exicuted. And I was right. You left twenty minutes later, but now you were accompanied by someone—"

"No, we weren't!" Harry interrupted.

"—someone impossible," Remus continued, starting to pace and completely ignoring Harry. "I thought the map was malfunctioning. He couldn't be with you, he was dead—"

"No one was with us!" Harry repeated.

"And then Sirius appeared, and he dragged two of you under the Whomping Willow and out of sight with him. . . ."

"One of us!" Ron exclaimed angrily.

Remus came to a stop, staring at the redheaded boy and the struggling bulge in his pocket. "No, Ron. Two of you. Could I please have a look at your rat?"

"What's Scabbers got to do with anything?"

"Everything. Can I see him, please?"

Ron hesitated, then drew the struggling Peter out of his pocket. Remus watched him fight Ron, fascinated, half-hoping to see and half-dreading the possibility of recognizing any resemblance to the man he once knew. Crookshanks hissed at Peter, and Remus stepped closer.

"What's my rat have to do with anything?" Ron repeated.

Sirius spoke up before Remus could say anything. "That's no rat."

"You're nutters, of course he's—"

"He's a wizard," Regulus cut in. "And another dead man."

"He's my pet rat!" Ron repeated, somewhat desperately.

"No, he's an Animagus," Sirius snapped, just as desperately. "Peter Pettigrew."

**

* * *

Author's Note:** I'm glad to see everyone thinks I'm evil about the cliffhangers. Anyway, I finally resolved that. All right, I know this was my roughest chapter yet, and I apologize for that, and for disclaimer purposes, a few of those lines were taken directly out of the book because they fit the character and situation best. ems25: I'm glad you decided to give me a chance. About the common sense thing: we're probably using two different definitions of common sense; after all it is rather ill-defined. Recklessness, after all, is not thinking about the consequences and I think of common sense as doing just that. So in my book, Sirius rarely acts with it. SupportSeverusSnape: I'm still building my bunker, although in my defense, nearly everything with Snape in the scene is canon modified to include Regulus. And to finally answer Jackline's question from last a/n: 1993 is 18 chapters. I will hopefully start working on 1994 in the next few days. And thanks to everyone else for reviewing! Cheers! — Loki


	13. Snape

There was a few minutes of utter silence after the adults had had their say. Then, inevitably, one of the kids— Ron— broke it. "You're all mental."

"Peter Pettigrew's dead," Harry added flatly, and he pointed to Sirius. "_He_ killed him twelve years ago!"

"I meant to," Sirius growled, glowering at the rat, "But little Peter got the better of me."

Regulus on the other hand, chuckled humorlessly. "Julius Nott reportedly blew me sky high thirteen years ago, and yet, somehow, I'm still standing here arguing with you," he pointed out. "Just because a few eyewitnesses have no reason to lie doesn't mean they have all their facts straight."

"That's true," Remus admitted. "Everyone thought Sirius had killed Peter— there was too much evidence not to. I believed it myself."

"And me," Regulus admitted.

"But the Marauders Map doesn't lie," Remus continued. "Spells usually don't. Peter's alive, Harry. Ron's holding him."

"But not for much longer," Sirius announced, starting forward.

"Not so fast," Remus snapped, grabbing Sirius by the back of the robes and tugging him back until he could grab his shoulder. Sirius fought him, but Remus had a strong grip. "They don't understand yet; we've got to explain."

"We can explain later," Sirius snapped. "I've been more than patient and it's just run out."

He managed to pull out of Remus's grasp, but the professor grabbed him again and pulled him back harder. "They've got a right to know everything, Sirius! Ron's kept him as a pet! There are parts of it even I don't understand!"

Regulus stepped between Sirius and the bed to help Remus. "You told me the reason you weren't going to just run away from the dementors was that Remus and Harry deserved the truth, Sirius."

Sirius stopped moving so suddenly that Remus, who was still trying to tug him backward, pulled the bigger man into himself, and both toppled to the floor. Sirius stared at Regulus, half in shock, for a long moment before he stood up and helped Remus to his feet. "All right, Remus. Explain whatever you like. But be quick— like I said, it's been too long for me to wait much longer."

Meanwhile, Ron had shoved Pettigrew back into his pocket, heaved himself to his feet with enormous effort, and grabbed onto Harry and Hermione. "Let's get out of here while we still can," he whispered. "They're all mad."

Hermione nodded, and Harry looked as if he might argue, but neither of them got a chance to answer, because Remus had evidently heard. He tossed the four extra wands he was holding back to their owners and shoved his own into his belt. Regulus, catching his eye, shoved his wand back into his jacket pocket.

"There— you're armed, we're not," Remus announced. "Now will you listen?"

All three of them were staring as if in shock at their wands. With a slight moan Ron sank back onto the bed.

"Now, Ron," Remus continued, "you might want to keep a better grip on Peter than just having him in your pocket while we talk. I wouldn't put it past him to just slip out—"

"He's not Peter, he's Scabbers!" Ron exclaimed, clearly exasperated.

Before they got into another argument they could avoid, Regulus announced, "Call him what you like, all right? Just hear us out."

The boys nodded, but Hermione was still staring at Remus. "But, Professor Lupin . . . Scabbers _can't _be Pettigrew . . . you_ know_ he can't. . . ."

"And why is that, Hermione?" Remus asked mildly.

"Because— because people would know if Peter Pettigrew was an Animagus. We did Animagi in class and the Ministry keeps tabs on the people who are trying to do it and what they are. When I did my homework I went and looked McGonagall's name up on the registry, and there have only been seven Animagi in this century, and Pettigrew's name wasn't on the list."

Harry and Ron's mouths formed silent "o"s in admiration, but Remus simply started to laugh. "Right again, Hermione! But the Ministry never knew there were three unregistered Animagi running around Hogwarts."

"Remus, I said be quick," Sirius reminded him, his eyes now fixed on every little move Pettigrew made on the bed. "Get on with it."

"All right, but you two will have to help . . . I only know the start of the story."

As he spoke, something creaked loudly behind him. Everyone looked around, startled, to see that the bedroom door had opened. Remus shut it again. "No one there."

"This place is haunted!" Ron reminded them.

"No, actually," Remus answered. "The Shrieking Shack was never haunted . . . the screams the villagers used to hear were all made by me."

"The house is probably just settling," Regulus added. "_Relax_, kids."

Remus shook his head. "How can they? They're in the company of a convicted murderer, a dead man, and a werewolf. That's where it all really begins, isn't it? With my becoming a werewolf . . . none of this could have happened if I hadn't been bit, and if I hadn't been so foolhardy. . . ."

Ron opened his mouth, but Hermione shushed him, staring at Remus intently as he started his story. Regulus likewise listened with interest. He'd pieced a lot of the story together on his own, but he'd never heard everything explained in full. Sirius hadn't exactly been eager to reminisce over the year.

When Remus finally got to the explanations of their nicknames, Harry broke in, no doubt wondering what kind of animal James had been, but Hermione interrupted him. "That was still really dangerous! Running around in the dark with a werewolf— what if you'd given the others the slip and bitten someone?"

"A thought that still haunts me," Remus admitted heavily. "There were near misses— many of them. We laughed them off afterwards. After all, we were young and reckless, carried away with our own cleverness. . . .

"Of course, sometimes I felt guilty about betraying Dumbledore's trust. He'd let me into Hogwarts when no other Headmaster would have, and I had let three other students become Animagi illegally and crossed the lines he'd set up for everyone's safety. But I always managed to forget those guilty feelings when we sat down to plan next month's adventure. And I haven't changed. . . ."

Remus sighed, and he sounded disgusted with himself when he returned to his story. "All this year I've been struggling with myself, trying to decide whether or not to tell Dumbledore that Sirius was an Animagus. But I didn't do it, because telling him would be admitting I betrayed his trust all those years ago, and Dumbledore's trust has meant everything to me. So I told myself that Sirius had been getting into the school using Dark Magic . . . so in a way Snape's been right about me all along."

Sirius looked up. "What has Snape got to do with anything?"

Regulus felt a guilty twinge in the pit of his own stomach. He'd seen Snape around; he just hadn't been about to tell Sirius about it. Sirius had a score to settle with Severus Snape as well as with Peter, after all, and he hadn't wanted more trouble.

"He's here, Sirius," Remus explained. "He's teaching at Hogwarts as well."

The door creaked again, and once again it opened onto an empty hallway. No one moved to shut it as Remus looked over at the kids and explained, "Professor Snape has been trying to convince Dumbledore I'm not trustworthy all year. He has his reasons— in our sixth year Sirius played a trick on him which almost got several people killed, a trick involving me. . . ."

Sirius shook his head. "He deserved it—"

Regulus cut in. "That remains a matter of debate."

"I didn't think you liked him either."

"I didn't. I also don't believe mutual hatred is any reason whatsoever to kill him," Regulus answered.

"And this is coming from the Death Eater," Sirius muttered, rolling his eyes.

"Snape was very interested in where I went every month," Remus explained. "We were in the same year and we . . . er . . . we didn't like each other very much. He especially disliked James. Jealous, I think. Anyway, he saw Madam Pomfrey and I walking to the Whomping Willow one night and Sirius thought it would be amusing to tell him that all he needed to do was tap the knot and he would be able to follow. Well, of course Snape tried it. James heard what Sirius had done and went to go stop him, at some risk to his own life. However, Snape did see me at the end of the tunnel. Dumbledore made him promise not to tell anyone, but he knew what I was."

"So that's why Snape doesn't like you?" Harry asked slowly. "Because he thought you were in on the joke?"

Before Remus could reply, Snape pulled off an Invisibility Cloak, pointed his wand at Remus, and answered, "That's right."

* * *

Hermione screamed for the second time. Remus and Regulus both froze, barely breathing. Sirius went cold— not with fear, precisely; he'd never been afraid of Snape, but with shock. Snape was worse than a team of Aurors right now; he wouldn't give even the kids half a breath to explain themselves.

"I found your cloak at the base of the Whomping Willow, Potter," Snape explained, tossing it aside. "Very useful. . . . You forgot to take your potion tonight, Lupin; I brought you up a goblet and found that you left out a Map you'd confiscated several months ago and sworn was only childish nonsense. . . . Well, I saw you running down this passage out of sight, and that was all I needed to know."

"Severus—" Remus started, but his voice was shaking just slightly— he knew, too, how unlikely the truth was, and how equally unlikely Snape was to listen to it anyway.

"I told Dumbledore you were helping an old friend into the castle," Snape interrupted. "And here's all the proof I need."

"Severus, you're making a mistake," Remus tried again, his voice even more urgent, "You haven't heard it all— I can explain— Sirius isn't here to kill Harry, he's here to take revenge on someone else—"

"Two more for Azkaban tonight," Snape interrupted with a nasty smile.

Sirius balled his fists up, but he couldn't think of what to do— Snape was, after all, armed and a pretty good dueler, so he didn't stand a chance against him without a wand.

To his relief and surprise, Regulus spoke up. "Learn to count, Severus. There are three of us, so unless you're not counting Sirius because he's supposed to be there anyway. . . ."

Snape's head snapped towards Regulus, but his wand didn't move from Remus's chest. "And who the hell are you?" he demanded.

"You don't recognize me? Regulus Black."

"Regulus Bl—" Snape stopped. "That's impossible."

Regulus shrugged. "I'm not the only thing that's impossible in this room, Severus, but I'm still here and solid. Maybe that'll help get you in the right mindset. I'm not the only dead man here tonight."

Snape let out a nasty bark of laughter. "Black picked up a madman somewhere between Azkaban and here. Regulus Black is _dead_, fool. He has been for thirteen years, since he deserted the Dark Lord."

Sirius glanced from Regulus to Snape and down Snape's wand back to Remus, thinking quickly. If Regulus could keep him distracted. . . . He edged behind Snape, trying to catch Regulus's eye. Regulus met his gaze and nodded almost imperceptibly.

"They never found my body, Severus, now did they?" he asked.

"Or perhaps you're an amnesiac Black convinced was his brother. You do look a bit like Regulus Black, I'll give you that, but facts are facts. The way Nott kills, there wouldn't have been a body to find."

Regulus sighed. "Look, Snape. We both know Sirius was no Death Eater. He doesn't have the ideology, or the mindset, or the history, or the Mark. All he's got is the breeding, and by _that_ logic you're not one. So something else happened that night. We can tell you what it is."

Snape snorted derisively. "I doubt it. And—"

Sirius pounced on Snape. He had the advantage of surprise and at this range wands were practically useless, but Snape was both Sirius's size and healthy. It wasn't long before Sirius was thrown against the wall for the second time that night, and this time it was Snape furious and pointing a wand at his chest. "Give me a reason," he whispered. "Please."

"I thought I already had."

"_Sirius_," Regulus and Remus growled simultaneously, but both seemed afraid to move. All it would take was one wrong move and half a second.

Silence resumed for a few moments, until the girl— Hermione— actually came to his rescue. She stepped forward uncertainly. "Professor Snape, please. . . . What if there _has_ been a mistake? Would it really hurt to hear what they've got to say?"

Sirius half expected Snape to just tell her that yes, as a matter of fact it would. Instead, he snapped, "Granger, you are out of bounds late at night, in the company of a madman who may be a Death Eater, a convicted murder, and a werewolf. For once, _hold your tongue_."

"But—"

"I SAID HOLD YOUR TONGUE!" Snape howled. "DON'T TALK ABOUT WHAT YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!"

Sirius started to get to his feet, but the look on Snape's face changed his mind. "Actually, Snape," he announced, as lightly as he could under the circumstances, "I think I'll come quietly, as long as that boy's rat comes up to the castle with us—"

"Oh, we don't need to go as far as the castle," Snape interrupted, and that nasty smile was back on his face. "You see, the grounds are littered with dementors, and I daresay they'll be pleased enough to see you to give you a kiss. . . ."

Now that cold feeling in the pit of his stomach really _was_ fear.

Snape glanced from Sirius to Remus and Regulus, both still frozen where they'd been standing. "Perhaps they'll have a kiss for your family and friends, too. . . . Now, if the three of you don't mind— what _are_ you doing, Potter?"

Harry was blocking the door. "Professor Lupin could've killed me about a hundred times this year," he informed Snape. "If he really wanted me dead, why didn't he just kill me then?"

"Don't ask me to fathom the way a werewolf's mind works, just get out of my way."

"Just because they made a fool of you in school you won't even listen?" Harry demanded. "That's pathetic."

"I will _not_ be spoken to like that," Snape growled. "Like father, like son, too arrogant to think that you might be putting your trust in the wrong place. Now, I'm only going to say this one more time: _Get out of my way_."

"_Expelliarmus_!" It wasn't just Harry who shouted, but Ron and Hermione as well. In a flash of red, Snape was lifted bodily and thrown into the wall beside Sirius. His wand likewise went flying and he lay unconscious.

"You shouldn't have done that," Sirius said gruffly. "You should've left him to us. . . ."

"I'm still not saying I believe you," Harry snapped.

Sirius and Regulus exchanged looks, and Sirius knew what his brother was thinking: _They'd better find this one _hell_ of a second half of a story._

_

* * *

_**Plea For Mercy (from behind a bunker):** I realize that this chapter has an excess of Snape . . . not being very nice. From Sirius's PoV, which guarantees that he's not going to come off in a good light. In my defense, I'm still not sure what to make of Snape in HBP, but Sirius's mind was made up as a teenager, so Snape didn't look good in this aptly numbered thirteenth chapter. (SupportSeverusSnape: forgive me?) Anyway, Gwinna and Jackline: How am I suppost to write the Shrieking Scene chapters _without_ cliffhangers? But, yes, I am enjoying them, too. Thanks everyone for reviewing! Until next week, cheers! -- Loki


	14. Peter Unmasked

Remus went to make sure Snape was all right, since Hermione was staring at the Potions professor in horror, shaking like a small earthquake, and whimpering, "We attacked a teacher . . . we attacked a teacher . . . oh, we are going to be in so much trouble." Sirius and Regulus, after all, had already made it clear enough that they weren't going to do anything about it.

"He'll be fine," he announced. "You were just a bit . . . overenthusiastic. But perhaps it's best not to revive him right now."

This seemed to calm Hermione down a little, so Remus turned to Harry. "_I_ want one more question answered, then we'll offer you proof, all right?" he asked.

Slowly, Harry nodded. Remus turned to Regulus. "How did you get here?"

"There weren't three illegal Animagi running around Hogwarts in 1977. There were four," Regulus admitted. "And then I lost my taste for killing just watching it. When I finally stopped Bellatrix from crossing a line and I had to run, I transformed when Nott tried to blow me up . . . a lot like Pettigrew apparently did, except Nott really did create the crater. I've spent the last thirteen years on the mainland, but when Sirius escaped. . . ." He shrugged. "Lupin, I got into the Death Eaters for family, and I got out of them for family, too. You cannot honestly expect me to watch Sirius do something incredibly stupid from the other side of the channel."

"No," Remus admitted, "I can't. You . . . how did you get out of them for family?"

Regulus shook his head. "We're running out of time and they're running out of patience. It won't be long before someone wonders where you or Snape got off to or notices that the kids have disappeared. You ought to prove we're right."

Remus nodded. Regulus was simply saying he didn't want to explain, but he also had a point. "You're right. Ron, give me Peter, please. Now."

Ron, however, just clutched Peter tighter to his chest. "Come of it, you're saying he broke out just to get at _Scabbers?_ Okay, let's say Pettigrew could turn into a rat . . . there are millions of rats. Why mine?"

Remus looked over at Sirius, who had gotten to his feet and was rubbing his bruising jaw. "That's a fair question. How _did_ you know, Sirius?"

Sirius shot him a bit of a guilty look and pulled a yellowed _Daily Prophet _clipping out of his pocket. The article showed Ron waving at the camera with Peter on his shoulders. Remus opened his mouth to ask, but Sirius supplied the answer before he could get the words out. "Last time Fudge inspected Azkaban, he gave me his paper. And there was Peter on the front page, safe and positioned to act. At Hogwarts—"

"—where Harry was" Remus finished, taking the clipping from him to take a closer look. He looked back up at Peter in the flesh and paled slightly. "My God. His front paw. . . ."

"Missing a toe," Sirius said, nodding.

"He cut it off himself?"

"Just before he transformed. He shouted to the entire street that I'd killed Lily and James, cut off his finger, blew up the pavement, killing everyone within twenty feet of him, and scurried off into the sewer with the other rats."

"The biggest bit of Peter they ever found was his finger," Remus added to the three kids.

"Look," Ron told them desperately, "Scabbers probably had a fight with another rat or something. He's been in my family for ages."

"Twelve years, right?" Remus asked. "Didn't you ever wonder how a common garden rat lived so long?"

"We. . . ." Ron hesitated, obviously trying to think up a rational explanation for that. "We've been taking good care of him!"

"Not looking too good now, though, is he?" Regulus asked mildly.

"He's been scared of the mad cat!" Ron exclaimed, pointing ant the ginger animal.

Crookshanks had been rubbing against Sirius's legs, and he knelt down and picked up the "mad cat." "This cat isn't mad," Sirius answered. "He's the most intelligent of his kind I've ever met."

"Because he's _half kneazle_," Regulus muttered under his breath.

"You just don't want to admit he's smarter than Anna was," Sirius shot back. Regulus raised an eyebrow, and for a moment the two brothers stood locked in a silent argument even Remus couldn't fathom. Then Sirius shook his head and got back to the matter at hand, summarizing their year in relation to the cat, up until the point at which Peter had faked his death, when Harry interrupted again.

"And why did he do that? Because you wanted to kill him just like you did my parents. And now you've come to finish him off!"

"Well. . . ." Sirius seemed to hesitate. "Sort of."

Harry opened his mouth again, and Remus cut in hurriedly to avoid another outburst. "Harry, wait. Don't you see? We've been hearing the wrong story for twelve years. Peter betrayed your parents—"

"I could have told you that much," Regulus muttered.

"Yes, but you were too busy pretending to be dead yourself," Remus reminded him. "Sirius tracked Peter down, not the other way around—"

"_No!_" Harry shouted. "_He said he'd killed them before you came up!_"

Regulus put his hands over his face, obviously at his wits' end. Remus glanced over at Sirius, who was clearly not ready to answer. Too bad— he had to. Remus held out a hand to stop the protest obviously about to burst out of Harry, staring at Sirius intently.

"Harry . . . I as good as killed them," Sirius admitted after a long moment. His voice was cracked and he seemed to be on the verge of tears. "It was my idea to use Peter; I missed every little thing that should have told me it was him. . . . The night they died, I'd gone to check on Peter, and then he was gone, no sign of a struggle. It didn't feel right. I went straight to Lily and James's, but then . . . it had already happened. . . . ."

Remus bit his lip and decided that Sirius had been on the spot more than enough tonight. "That's enough. There's only one way to know for sure. Ron, _give me that rat_."

"What are you going to do?" he demanded.

"Force him to show himself. If we've got the wrong one, then it won't hurt him."

Peter squeaked and started struggling more than ever. Ron, however, handed him over with some difficulty, and Remus grabbed him by the tail.

Blue light flashed, and for a moment the rat froze as if stunned. Remus dropped Peter as the tail dissolved into nothing, as he was growing from a rat into a short man, perhaps not even as tall as Regulus. It was definitely Peter— he was missing a lot of his mousy hair, true, but the beady eyes and pointed Roman nose were the same as they had always been. "Hello, Peter," Remus said, keeping his voice mild with a colossal effort. "Long time, no see, but it's nice of you to finally join us. We've been discussing the night Lily and James died; you might have missed a lot of the discussion in Ron's pocket—"

"R-Remus," he squeaked. "Y-you don't r-really believe him, do you?"

"Well, I'll be willing to listen to your side of it, certainly, although it will have to be a fairly convincing story—"

Peter interrupted him a second time. "He's going to try and kill me again!"

"No one's going to try and kill you until we've sorted a few things out," Remus answered.

"Sorted things out! He tried to kill me, Remus!" Peter repeated, as if by saying it enough times he could make Remus actually believe it. "I knew he'd come back for me; I've been waiting for him to come back for twelve years!"

Remus glanced over at Sirius, raising an eyebrow.

Sirius smiled grimly. He didn't have to be a Legilimens to know what Remus was thinking; he just knew the man well enough: _Somehow, it doesn't surprise me that the lunatic was the lucid one._ "Have you been hiding from me for twelve years, Peter, or from the rest of Voldemort's supporters?" he wanted to know.

"I . . . I don't know what you mean!" Peter exclaimed.

"Then perhaps I ought to make things a bit clearer for you. His lot aren't happy with you. Voldemort went to the Potter's on your orders, Peter, and there he met his downfall. I've heard them in Azkaban— they think the double-crosser double-crossed them, and plenty of them didn't go to prison, now did they? If they knew you were still alive. . . ."

Peter blanched, but somehow he rallied his thoughts together. "I dunno what you mean, Sirius. . . . I . . . I suppose you must be as mad as they say you are. Surely you don't believe this, Remus?"

Remus shrugged. "I have some difficulty fathoming why an innocent man would want to spend twelve years as a rat."

"Innocent but scared!" Peter yelped.

"Yes . . . scared of what might happen if you showed yourself," Sirius spat. "Remus would find a hole in your story if you told him you'd blown up an entire street to save yourself, and of course if you walked the streets again any Death Eaters who survived free would have been after your blood. You always did need big friends to protect you. . . . I'm surprised I didn't see it from the start. . . . With Voldemort gaining power everywhere Dumbledore must not have seemed to be a big enough protector anymore. . . ."

He scowled. "Lily and James only made you Secret-Keeper because I suggested it. A perfect bluff . . . if you hadn't already double-crossed us. Must've been the greatest moment of your life, telling Voldemort you could hand him the Potters."

Peter had begun muttering halfway through this speech, and Sirius caught the words "raving lunatic" and "madness." But he wasn't making a very convincing show of it. Objectively, he'd lost the argument when he'd ceased to be a rat, but glancing surreptitiously at the exits and looking anywhere but the faces of the men he was talking to was earning him no credibility.

Hermione spoke up tentatively. "Professor Lupin?" she asked, addressing the man who had clearly taken charge. "Can I . . . can I say something?"

"Certainly," Remus answered.

"Well, Scabbers— I mean, this man— he's been sleeping in Harry's dormitory for two and a half years now. If he was really working for Voldemort, why hasn't he done anything to Harry before now?"

"Exactly!" Peter squeaked, grasping the only shred of evidence available to him thus far. "I've never hurt him, never so much as touched him!"

Sirius sighed theatrically. "Of course you didn't. There was nothing in it for you, and you never did anything unless you could see your own gain in it. You weren't about to commit murder under Albus Dumbledore's nose until you knew Voldemort was gaining power again. But if you handed him Harry, no one could say you'd done anything to betray him . . . you'd be welcomed back with honors."

Peter groped feebly for the "lunacy" explanation again, but evidently he could see all the little pieces clicking together in Remus's eyes, and the grim smile tugging at the corners of Regulus's mouth, who had always referred to Peter as the hanger-on.

Hermione spoke up again. "Er— Mr. Black— Sirius?"

Sirius stared at her for a moment, startled to be addressed like that. "It's Sirius," he told her weakly after a moment.

"Well . . . how did you get out of Azkaban, if you didn't use Dark Magic?" she wanted to know.

Sirius bit his lip. He'd known he would have to provide explanations, but he hadn't expected those explanations to involve relieving everything from the time they'd switched Secret-Keepers to tonight, with a side trip down memory lane to their fifth year. At the same time, he couldn't fail to provide explanations at this point. "I think . . . I think that the only reason I didn't go insane was that I knew I was innocent," he said slowly. "It wasn't a happy thought, really, but I still knew who I was, so I kept my powers . . . and I could transform when it all became too much . . . become a dog. Dementors . . . dementors can't see, after all, so when they sensed a dog's thinking they just thought I was losing my mind like everyone else. . . .

"And then Fudge gave me his paper, and I saw Peter. . . . No one else knew he was still alive, so I had to be the one to do something. It became an obsession, but it focused my thoughts. . . . Still, I couldn't drive them back without a wand. . . . Instead, I slipped past them as a dog . . . I was thin enough to slide through the bars and swim back to the mainland. . . . Then I was stunned by Regulus in Surrey on my way to Hogwarts. He believed me, at least, and came here with me. We've been living and hunting in the Forbidden Forest, except when I dragged him up to watch Quidditch games . . . you fly as well as James did, Harry. . . ."

He looked up and met Harry's eyes, and the boy didn't look away. "Please, Harry . . . I never would have betrayed your parents. I would have died first."

For a moment they stood with their eyes locked, and again tension filled the room as everyone held their breath. Then, slowly, Harry nodded.

* * *

**Author's Note:** All right, I'm glad Snape was in character; for obvious reasons, I get a little nervous when a plot requires I give a character I'm not particularly fond of his fifteen minutes in the limelight. . . . Anyway, yes, more deja vu here; it's just impossible to continue the plot without getting the kids on the same page as the adults. It occures to me that, since this is chapter 14 of 18, I only have a month left to get a head start on 1994. I need to do so. _But_, thank you to my five reviewers, and to anyone who cares to leave a note after this one; it might motivate me to start 1994 or at least make me extremely happy. . . . Cheers! --- Loki 


	15. Going to Prove the World Wrong

"No!"

Pettigrew squealed as if Harry had just signed his death sentence, which if Sirius got his way, he had. Desperately he looked around the room, towards anyone who might offer him sympathy. The expressions he met varied from impassive to angry to fearful, but none looked especially forgiving.

He tried the original source of wrath first. "Sirius . . . you . . . you wouldn't kill an . . . an old friend, would you?"

Sirius just smiled nastily. "Why not? You did James."

It was obvious he would get no sympathy there. He next turned to Remus. "Surely . . . surely you don't believe this madness, do you, Remus? Wouldn't they have told you if they'd changed the plan?"

"Not if they were afraid _I_ was the spy," Remus reminded him. He looked over Pettigrew at Sirius. "I assume that's why you never told me?"

He nodded. "I'm sorry, Remus."

"Not at all, Padfoot, old friend. I _did_ have more against me at first glance," he answered, rolling up his sleeves.

Pettigrew looked around again, and this time his eyes landed on Regulus, who had been standing a little apart from the drama, watching it. "Re— Regulus . . . you've been in his inner circle. . . ." He started. "You . . . you know what he could have done, if I hadn't given it up . . . you know he would have killed me. . . ."

A grim smile tugged at Regulus's lips again. He'd been wondering when Pettigrew would try this particular tactic. "True. But do you know why I finally left the Death Eaters and faked my death? Because I stopped Bellatrix from going after Sirius. I know what loyalty is, Pettigrew. You're going to get about as much sympathy from me as you are from anyone else here."

Pettigrew mouthed at him silently for a few moments, apparently at a loss.

"If it had been anyone but Nott, it would have been my life," Regulus reminded him softly, with ice forming on his tone. "I knew that."

He finally went after one of the kids, turning to Ron Weasley. "Ron . . . haven't I been a good rat? A good pet? You won't let them kill me, will you?"

Ron, however, was looking at him with an expression of utmost disgust. "I let you sleep in my bed!"

There would be no help from the redhead then, either. Pettigrew looked over at Hermione. "You . . . you won't let them, will you?" he asked, and his voice rose in panic an entire octave. "You don't want them to—"

But Hermione merely backed up until her shoulders hit the wall, looking torn between fear and disgust.

Regulus bit his lip. There was only one person left in the room, so Pettigrew was either going to put his foot in it or accept his fate.

He put his foot in it, turning at last to Harry. "Harry . . . you . . . you look so much like James . . . just like him. . . ."

Out of the corner of his eye, Regulus could see Sirius's face contorting with rage. _If you're trying anything, you'd better make it quick,_ he thought.

"Harry . . . James wouldn't have wanted me killed . . . he'd have shown me mercy. . . ."

Sirius snapped. "_How dare you face Harry? How dare you talk about James in front of him?_" He strode over to the two. Remus followed him, perhaps at first to stop him, but instead they each seized Pettigrew by a shoulder and threw him back. He lay on the floor, looking up at them and trembling. Sirius also resembled a fault line, but his voice was surprisingly calm and cold as he growled, "You sold James and Lily to Voldemort. Do you deny it?"

"N-no. . . ." For a moment it looked like Pettigrew was going to burst into tears, but it seemed he was too terrified even for that. Regulus started towards them, not entirely sure what he was going to do.

"You should have realized that if Voldemort didn't kill you, we would," Remus said quietly, and his voice was shaking even though his body wasn't. He looked up at Sirius. "Together?"

"I think so," Sirius answered, looking behind him, where his brother stood, still not sure what to do. He held out his hand.

Regulus stared at it for a moment, then slowly took out his wand and handed it to him. "I'd still rather you didn't, but . . . I don't suppose it was ever my decision to make," he whispered.

Sirius nodded and turned back to Pettigrew. Regulus's wand wasn't precisely steady in his hands, but he nodded to Remus. "Ready?"

Hermione buried her hands in her face; Regulus bit his lip, and Ron looked uncomfortable, but none of them made any move to stop the two. Harry did. "No, wait!" he exclaimed, moving between them and Pettigrew. "You can't kill him."

This threw Sirius off like nothing else could, and Remus also looked taken aback. "Harry," Sirius said softly. "You heard him. His own hide meant more to him than your entire family."

"I know," Harry answered, glancing back over at Pettigrew. "He can go to Azkaban. He deserves it. . . . But I don't think my dad would've wanted to his two best friends to become killers . . . just for him."

Regulus smiled. "Thank you," he whispered to Harry.

Sirius hesitated. "You're the only one with the right to decide, of course, Harry . . . but, still. . . ."

"We can hand him to the dementors," Harry repeated firmly.

Remus nodded. "Very well." He made a move to get past Harry, who hesitated. "I'm just going to tie him up, I swear," he said.

After a moment, Harry nodded and got out of the way.

Cords shot out of Remus's wand and wrapped themselves around Pettigrew, who struggled weakly for a moment before falling silent.

"But if you transform, Peter, we _will_ kill you," Remus told him, glancing over at Harry, who nodded in assent.

"All right," Remus added, looking around. His eyes landed on Ron, who was still on the bed and in obvious pain. "Regulus, you're the best healer here by far, so. . . ?"

He shook his head. "I already took a look. If it was clean I could heal it, but it's a pretty jagged break."

"Well, then, it's best we bind it up until Madam Pomfrey can take a look at it," Remus replied. He pointed his wand at Ron's leg and muttered "_Ferula_." The spell conjured a splint and bandages, which wrapped themselves tightly around Ron's leg, so he was able to stand up without hurting himself.

"Thanks," Ron said.

Hermione looked over at Professor Snape, nervous once again. "What about him?" she asked softly.

"Even with Peter," Remus observed, "I don't know that reviving him is the best idea. . . . Er— we can take him like this." He raised his wand again and muttered the incantation, so that Snape floated into the air like some macabre marionette.

Sirius handed Regulus back his wand and retrieved Snape's. "I've got him." From there, he nodded to Pettigrew. "Someone ought to be chained to that, so he doesn't try anything."

Remus volunteered, as did Ron. Regulus opened his mouth to tell Ron he really shouldn't be doing that with a broken leg, but the fierce look in the boy's face silenced him. He'd only be wasting his breath. "All right, then," he muttered instead. "Let's get back up to the castle and prove the world wrong, shall we?"

As if he agreed, Crookshanks sprang to the doorway and started down the creaking steps to lead the way out. Ron and Remus and Pettigrew followed him awkwardly, and Sirius floated Snape out in front of them. Then he nodded pointedly to Regulus, who took the hint and filed out. Hermione followed him, leaving Sirius and Harry to bring up the rear.

* * *

It was a weird kind of elation, knowing that he had proof enough to have convinced four more people, because at the same time Sirius felt utterly drained. He'd done more talking tonight than he'd done in years, and most of it had been rubbing salt into the old wounds of painful subjects. But at the same time, that's what it had taken to get his family and friends back, and so the pain seemed suddenly passing.

He looked over at Harry, who likewise seemed almost lost in a dream. "You know what this means?" he asked. "Turning Peter in, I mean?"

Harry nodded. "You're free."

"Well, yeah, but . . . I dunno if anyone ever told you this, Harry, but I'm your godfather and . . . well . . . I'll understand if you don't want to, but"— amazing, how it was more difficult to ask this than it had been to confront Peter— "if . . . if you ever wanted a different home. . . ."

"Harry stared at him for a moment. "What, leave the Dursleys?"

He shook his head. "I thought you'd say that," he said quickly, "I understand, of course, just thought I'd ask—"

"Are you crazy? Of course I want to leave the Dursleys!"

Sirius's face broke into a smile entirely of its own accord as his brain tried to register this information— which took longer than it should have through his shock. "You mean it?" he asked. "Really?"

"Yeah!" Harry answered, nodding enthusiastically. "D'you have a house? When can I move in?"

Regulus, who had clearly been listening in, looked back at the pair. "Technically Grimmauld's his," he announced. "He probably doesn't want it, but if you really don't want to go back to your aunt and uncle's he'll probably be happy to let you stay there while he looks for another place. At any rate he'll have to put up with me there for a few weeks."

Sirius was too busy reeling happily at this news to register Regulus's slightly dry, teasing tone of voice. "Why only a few weeks?" he wanted to know.

"Because I'm dead, Sirius. I can't stay in Britain," Regulus answered.

"You wouldn't be the only dead man coming out of the shadows tonight," Sirius pointed out.

"Yes, but Pettigrew's headed straight to Azkaban, where no former Death Eaters can murder him. I don't fancy either of those options, so as soon as my nerves are in tact again, I'm headed back to France to pick up an old pseudonym, hold down a regular job for a few years, and try to recover from the emotional scars I got spending a year in the woods with you."

"_Reggie_. . . ." Sirius started, but he knew Regulus was just teasing and was too tired and in too good a mood to pull off a bad imitation of insulted.

"Or maybe I'll do what Uncle Alphard would have and write a book," Regulus continued, still with that teasing grin. "_A Year in the Forbidden Forest with a Convicted Murderer_. . . . Sounds a bit like Thoreau. . . ."

"Does anyone have anything I can chuck at him?" Sirius asked with half a grin.

Up ahead, Crookshanks crawled out of the hole and into the darkness. Remus followed him, still with his wand pointed at Peter and followed by Ron, who was having some difficulty staying upright. He really did need to get to the hospital wing. Apparently Crookshanks had had the sense to touch the knot, because nobody was getting whacked. Sirius floated Snape out and waited while Regulus and the other two kids climbed through before coming out himself.

Hermione and Harry had started after the other four, but Regulus was staring up at the sky. "Oh, hell," he muttered.

Sirius looked up as well and bit his lip. The clouds were parting on a full moon. "You . . . I guess you did say that tonight was a full moon," he mumbled, looking over at Remus, who had gone rigid and started to shake. "Damn," he muttered.

Harry started towards Ron, but Sirius managed to catch him around the waist and hold him back. "Go, I've got it!"

Harry was still looking nervously in Remus's direction— he'd started sprouting fur now. "But—"

"_I've got it_," Sirius repeated. "I know how to handle him. Run!"

Hermione tugged on Harry's arm and the two started to obey. Regulus was still standing at the base of the Willow, biting his lip. Sirius shook his head— his brother could handle himself, and started after Remus, transforming as he did so. As he lunged at the nearly transformed werewolf, Peter grabbed at Remus's wand. He got hold of it, stunned Ron, and transformed.

Had Sirius's mouth not already been full of the struggling werewolf's ruff, he would have howled in frustration. He glanced over at Regulus.

"I've got Pettigrew," Regulus said quickly, starting in the direction of the rat. "You get Lupin into the Forest." He transformed.

Sirius nodded and the two canine Animagi started off in nearly opposite directions in hot pursuit of their separate prey.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I've been building up to the "I don't suppose it was ever my decision to make" line for most of the story; Reg had to learn that his brother's free will (even if it puts him in danger) is more important than his safety. Gah. Do you think it was realistic? And I swear this is the last cliffie . . . mostly. I'll leave what you consider the end of chapter 16 to your own descretion. Anyway, SupportSeverusSnape: To end this long, drawn out discussion of the Potions Master, the only thing I'm certain with Snape anymore is that NOTHING is black and white. Mizz Moony Luver and Jackline: My decision concerning the veil was made before I put pen to paper (or . . . er, finagers to keyboard) and I've already laid a couple of clues as to the next few years. And thanks so much to everyone else who dropped a line of encouragement; I really do appreciate it. Oh, and while I haven't gotten very far yet, I _have _finally started 1994, although without the crashing momentum I had at the end of 1993 chapter one is putting up quite the fight. . . . Anyway, review? Cheers! -- Loki


	16. Dementors at the Door

Sirius lost Remus very quickly in the Forbidden Forest. The beast that had been bound all year under Wolfsbane was not eager to be fettered in a different way under Sirius's weight and jaws. He'd raked his claws over Sirius's nose and cheek, and the blood was running uncomfortably down his muzzle. Nevertheless, he chased Remus far enough in that everyone ought to be reasonably safe so long as they didn't come into the woods.

That decided, he turned around to go help Regulus. After all, this time Peter would have left a fresh trail and scent, and with the two of them working together they ought to be able to drag the little rat in by morning and force him to provide the appropriate explanation. Snape probably had some veritaserum in the dungeons somewhere, and Dumbledore could probably convince him to drag it out for an interview.

As he started to bound off, however, a sickeningly familiar cold sensation washed over him. _No, you don't_, he thought, and picked up his pace. He wasn't going to let them paralyze him with old fear, fear that didn't really matter anymore. It was bloody well over—

Then he realized he was running straight into them. He tried to skid to a stop and turn around, catching Peter in the next five minutes be damned, but they descended too quickly, and he wasn't sure he could have outrun them, anyway.

He growled, trying to hold onto his anger. Combined fury with himself for not remembering it was full moon and Peter for escaping wasn't a happy feeling, really, but it took some strength and focus to hold onto . . . focus he was quickly losing, as old guilt and old fear, the dementors' old friends, took its place.

Sirius realized distantly that he was crouched in a submissive position with his tail between his legs, whimpering. In his mind's eye he was twelve years ago, telling Lily and James to switch Secret-Keepers. The stupidest moment of his life.

Something flipped a switch in his body and he returned to human form. "N-no," he muttered, shaking his head in a feeble and unsuccessful attempt to clear it. There had to be at least a dozen of them. "You've got other things to do, you can't just sit here shaking! _Get moving, Sirius!_"

Then he remembered that they'd been authorized to Kiss him, and any strength that was in his body seemed to have left him. "No," he moaned again.

From out of nowhere Harry and Hermione burst into the scene. "Hermione, think of something happy!" Harry hollered, brandishing his wand at the nearest dementor with a look of fevered concentration his face. "_Expecto patronum!_"

Sirius made some attempt to get his shaky legs to move. _You've got to get _them_ out of here, they can't manage that, they're just kids!_ a voice inside his head shouted.

Hermione was proving that voice right. "_Ex— expecto . . . . expecto patro— expecto patronum_. . . ." she muttered weakly, but nothing happened.

Sirius tried to stand up again, but it was as if a fog was clouding over his thoughts and his vision. Harry shouted the spell again and a thin wisp of smoke left his wand. Impressive for a thirteen-year-old wizard, but useless against a dozen dementors.

_If nothing else you need to get the kids out!_ that voice screamed again. _You know _they_ won't stop with you! Come on, Sirius! . . . Sirius! . . . . Siri. . . . ._

* * *

Before he was really aware of anything else, Sirius noticed the headache. It was fierce, pounding, and he could barely think through it . . . but he _could_ think. He was alive. He still had a soul.

What that left was the questions of where he was and where the dementors had gone. He was lying on his back on something relatively soft, but after having spent twelve years of sleeping in Azkaban and a portion of the last year in the Forbidden Forest, he was aware that wasn't necessarily saying much. The air was still, so he'd probably been taken indoors, but that was all he could determine while lying still with his eyes tightly closed.

"Ungh?" he mumbled, reaching up to rub his head.

"Ah. I see you have returned to the world of the living."

Sirius considered this statement critically for a moment, still not ready to open his eyes. "Getting there," he mumbled at last.

The voice chuckled slightly. "As you have just been attacked by dementors. . . . Well, if you need a remedy I believe Filius keeps a few chocolate frogs in the bottom drawer of his desk."

_Filius. . . . _The name sounded familiar. Sirius waited as patiently as he could for his crawling brain to find the connection. "Professor Flitwick?" he asked after what seemed like an eternity. "Charms teacher?"

"Yes. You are in his office."

"Then what happened?" he mumbled.

"That, Mr. Black, is something I had hoped _you_ could tell _me_," the voice said calmly.

Sirius groaned and sat up, finally opening his eyes. He'd been lying on a rug in the office, and Professor Dumbledore was watching him with interest. Apparently he had removed the perpetual stack of books from Flitwick's chair, because the tall headmaster was seated behind the desk without apparent difficulty. They were alone, although he had no doubt this was only because he was wandless, and even less doubt that the doors and windows were tightly locked.

"Erm. . . ." he mumbled. His brain still seemed to be working at an incredibly slow pace, and for a few minutes all he could remember were the faceless heads of the dementors. Then, suddenly, the rest of the scene clicked back into place and started a panic. "What the hell happened to everybody else? Reggie and Remus . . . and the kids?" he demanded, half-afraid of the answer.

"Remus is still deep in the forest," Dumbledore assured him. "Harry, Ron, and Hermione were brought to the hospital wing by Professor Snape."

"So he came to," Sirius muttered, still massaging his pounding temples. At least Snape was not about to let a dozen dementors Kiss a couple of kids, even if he'd probably gladly pay to watch them do it to him.

"Well, he did have a rather nasty cut on his head."

"That wasn't me," Sirius said before he even had a chance to think, the product of far too many conversations with the headmaster concerning injuries to Snape. "The kids did that trying to disarm him. What about Peter and Reggie?"

"I'm afraid I don't know who you're talking about," Dumbledore told him.

"Peter Pettigrew . . . Ron's rat . . . Well, they're the same person," Sirius tried to explain. "And Reggie. . . ." He swallowed, reminded himself to at least attempt to be coherent, and tried to explain again. "Peter Pettigrew and my brother."

Dumbledore leaned forward a bit along Flitwick's desk and steepled his fingers in a characteristic gesture Sirius had come to recognize as Dumbledore in thought. "To the best of my knowledge, they have both been dead for over a decade, Sirius," he replied softly.

"Well, they're not," Sirius answered flatly and bit his lip. He'd explained once already tonight, but at least in the Shrieking Shack he'd had proof. "They're both unregistered Animagi . . . a rat and a fox. . . . They transformed so that people would think Nott or I blew them up when they supposedly died. . . . Oh, damn it, I'm not making any sense, am I?"

"I'm afraid not," Dumbledore told him. "Stories are best begun at the beginning, I believe."

"It's a bit long," Sirius announced. "But, well . . . I guess I'd better start when we were in school. . . ."

Before he really knew what was happening, he was pouring the entire story out to Dumbledore. It was easier this time, perhaps because he'd already told it once, perhaps because Remus and Regulus weren't trying to tell their side of it at the same time, or perhaps because Dumbledore proved to be a slightly better listener than the kids. He only interrupted twice, when Sirius had left out for the sake of speed something that the headmaster hadn't known.

". . . and now I guess Reggie's still in the Forest looking for Peter, since he's our only chance at getting anyone to believe us, so he doesn't know what's going on up here and won't until it's too late, and. . . ." Sirius hesitated, trying to think of anything he'd left out. "And you probably think I'm mad," he finished lamely.

"On the contrary," Dumbledore answered quietly. "That story was not the product of a madman. You are lucid man with a coherent explanation. A panicked explanation as well, yes, but that is understandable. Had you been mad I would not have just been treated to a story that makes perfect if slightly perverse sense."

It dimly occurred to Sirius that he was holding his breath.

"Furthermore, I can be fairly certain you aren't simply making it up. I don't even have to ask you transform, although I'm sure you could if I asked. There is, after all, the matter of your brother. It would have been necessary to reinvent Peter Pettigrew to prove your innocence, but not Regulus. He adds another element of the impossible to your story without furthering the end. So the only reasonable conclusion, since you aren't mad, is that you did not reinvent him."

The caught breath now burning Sirius's lungs was expelled in a massive sigh of relief. "So you believe me?" he demanded.

For half a second a look of slight discomfort passed over Dumbledore's face, but it was gone so quickly Sirius hoped he had simply imagined it. "Yes, Sirius," he said quietly. "I do believe you."

"Thank God," he mumbled— this situation had progressed far beyond Merlin.

"However," Dumbledore added, still quietly, "I do not have the power to override a Ministry decision, nor to make other men see the truth, and you must admit that your story is a bit fantastic— Severus's assumptions are much more credible."

Sirius closed his eyes. Perhaps Dumbledore hadn't always had the answers during the war . . . but this wasn't the war. This had happened on Hogwarts grounds, where Dumbledore _had_ always had the answers. He wasn't sure he could accept this. "So . . . so I guess . . . I guess you're saying that this is . . . this is it, then?" he asked hesitantly.

Dumbledore stood up and made his way towards the door. "Oh, I'm not sure I would go so far as to say that," he answered, and there was that twinkle behind the half moon spectacles that he had when he was keeping his cards close to his chest. "After all, where there is life, there is hope. Macnair will be up here in about fifteen minutes."

And with that cryptic reply, he left.

Sirius stared at the door, stunned and mouthing wordlessly, for almost a full minute. Then the prospect of dementors coming into the office resurfaced in his mind.

"Dammit!" he growled, pounding the wall with both fists. When that failed to alleviate the pressure on his chest, he tried again and again until he was out of swear words and his fists ached fiercely. But with the prospect of dementors at the door in a few minutes, hitting things and swearing didn't have their usual cathartic effects.

**

* * *

Author's Note:** That was a fairly short chapter and the only rabid Sirius fangirling we'll see for awhile, since 1994 is promising to be fairly Regulus centric. Regulus didn't make it into this chapter mostly for length purposes (this thing would be twice as long if I included the next scene), although I promise his search for Peter is the subject of next chapter and that it could not in any way be considered a cliffhanger, although it does of course leave a few lingering questions open for the conclusion. Anyway, thank you to everyone who reviewed, as always I really appreciate it! Cheers! — Loki


	17. Last Minute Rescue

Regulus kept up his search for Pettigrew as long as seemed viably sane. Once the undergrowth had started to slow him down, he'd lost the rat very quickly, and he'd spent the next forty-five minutes pouncing at every little movement, most of which turned out to be just the wind through the grass.

Finally, after reciting a list of curses covering seven years of Defense Against the Dark Arts and at least four different languages and shoving his nose into every little hole and sniffing until he sneezed, Regulus wondered what had happened to Sirius, Remus, and the kids. He would have expected his brother to come looking for him by now, after all. Once he'd chased Remus safely into the thick of the Forbidden Forest, he had no doubt Sirius would realize that finding the rat was more important than anything else they could be doing tonight.

With one last nasty look at the undergrowth, the fox started to bound towards the castle.

He didn't see Sirius or the kids, but at least he didn't see Remus or any sign of a fight either. Actually, the bareness of the grounds was a bit nerve-racking. While he couldn't imagine Sirius coming up to the castle without either Pettigrew or a fight, he also distinctly remembered his brother dropping Snape's wand as he transformed, which meant he was unarmed, and there were dementors and a number of armed and competent adults about the grounds. It could have happened too quickly for him.

Regulus shook his head. He was being ridiculous, of course— paranoid and ridiculous. Sirius was perfectly capable of looking after himself, and he'd survived things that should have killed him.

Still, it wasn't a question of_ surviving _what the dementors had in mind. . . .

Regulus shook his head a second time. Just because Sirius was the only family he had left was no real reason to panic. After he found his brother and came within an inch of murdering him for scaring him this badly, they'd get out of here and wind up on Andromeda's front steps to let her know the one was innocent and the other alive. Meda would probably be happy to let them in for a few hours once everything had been properly explained and they could sit in the living room and find out what career Nymphadora had decided to go into or what bone Ted had last broken . . . normal things. After this insane year, normal sounded very good indeed.

But first he had to actually find Sirius.

As he sniffed around the Whomping Willow, looking for Sirius's scent to follow, he noticed someone coming out of the castle, someone who looked strangely familiar. He kept to fairly tall grass and crept over to see who it was . . . Macnair, an old acquaintance and Death Eater. With an ax. An executioner, then.

Regulus suddenly felt queasy and looked around for any source of hope. Emerging from the woods by the lake were another three shapes. They weren't dementors, and squinting in the dark he could see that, to judge from the four legs and bird of prey profile, one was either a hippogriff or a griffin. Curiously, Regulus crept closer.

The other two shapes proved, to his immense relief, to be Harry and Hermione. He scurried into the light as Hermione tried to mount the hippogriff behind Harry and yipped when no one noticed him.

Both of them turned quickly around, and Hermione toppled gracelessly off the animal in her surprise. "What the—" Harry started.

Regulus transformed before he finished, startling Harry enough he never did complete the sentence. "Do either of you know what's going on?" the man demanded.

Hermione nodded.

"Oh, good . . . I think I just saw an executioner leave the school and needless to say that's made me nervous beyond belief. . . ." Regulus shook his head and realized he hadn't let her get a word in edgewise. "So what _is_ going on?" he added.

"They've got Sirius up in Professor Flitwick's office," Hermione told him quickly. "If Macnair just went to get the dementors, we've got to get Buckbeak up to rescue him."

"Where'd the hippogriff come from?"

"The Ministry was going to behead him, but he's safe, really, and . . . and Dumbledore said that we could save two innocent lives tonight and . . . well, we think he wanted us to rescue Buckbeak, too." She was still speaking quickly, but she didn't sound too sure of herself anymore.

Regulus shook his head. "It doesn't have to be a foolproof plan when it's the only one you've got," he pointed out. "After all, it's not as if. . . ." He shook his head again. "How many people d'you reckon that hippogriff'll carry?"

Harry glanced at Buckbeak. "I dunno. . . ."

"He'd better carry three but I don't think he can handle four," Regulus continued, clearly not listening. "I mean, I can just head back on my own, but Sirius does so many stupid things. . . . Do either of you mind if I just transform and hitch a ride between the two of you?"

Both Harry and Hermione shook their heads.

Regulus bit his lip. There was something missing around here. "Oh, and what happened to Ron?"

"Hospital wing," Harry explained. "Madam Pomfrey says he'll be okay. Now come _on_, before Macnair gets back!"

Regulus and Hermione both nodded. She mounted the hippogriff and Regulus transformed and leapt into her arms. Hermione adjusted him as best she could and wrapped one arm around Harry, squashing him between the two as Harry nudged the hippogriff into motion. In a few short strides, Buckbeak was spreading steel gray wings and taking off into the sky.

Hermione immediately grabbed Harry more tightly, so Regulus could barely breath. "Oh, I don't like this. . . ." she mumbled.

Regulus whimpered in agreement. He definitely preferred trains or Apparation to any form of air travel, but at least brooms didn't rock from side to side like a ship on a stormy sea.

"There he is!" Harry exclaimed, stopping Buckbeak, or at least stopping him as much as a hippogriff could be stopped in midair. With some difficulty and one horrible moment where Regulus grabbed a mouthful of his robes, afraid the boy would topple bodily off Buckbeak, Harry tapped the window.

Sirius, who was indeed inside, looked up and let his jaw drop. He raced over to the window and tried to wrench it open, even though everyone knew it was locked.

Hermione had somehow managed to retrieve her wand without letting go of either Harry or Regulus. "Stand back!" she shouted to him.

Sirius obliged, and with a shout of "_Alohomora!_" the window burst open.

Sirius forced his head and shoulders out. "How did you—" He stopped, and a half-scowling and half-admiring looked crossed his face. "_Where there's life there's hope_," he mumbled. "Dumbledore knew you were coming. I wish he'd be just a bit more explicit, sometimes. . . . Have either of you seen Reggie?"

Regulus poked his head out between the two and made a grumbling sound in the back of his throat to get his brother's attention.

"Oh, good."

"Get on," Harry told him. "There's not much time. Macnair's gone to get the dementors, they'll be here any minute."

Sirius nodded and continued to wriggle out of the window. He used Buckbeak's flank until he was halfway out, then nearly fell when he grabbed Hermione's shoulder. After a few more tense seconds, he had somehow managed to swing his leg over the hippogriff and clamber onto him fully.

"All right," Harry announced, shaking the reign. "Up to the tower— come on!"

Buckbeak took off again with a few more beats of his enormous wings, and again Regulus was pressed between the two kids and burying his head in his paw to keep from accidently pressing it into Hermione's bosom. Then, suddenly, with a clatter off two different kinds of feet, Buckbeak landed on the North Tower.

Regulus felt his stomach drop. It didn't stop in it's proper place but continued falling through the tower and into the dungeons. He wouldn't have been surprised if it kept falling until it reached China and was served as an oriental delicacy. He leapt onto the stones after it at the first available opportunity.

Hermione, looking no less frazzled, still slid to the ground at a slightly more leisurely pace, if only because Sirius was still holding her shoulder and helping her down. Harry pounced off, but he still kept his feet.

Although the last thing he wanted to do was gain height, slight though it might be, Regulus transformed and glanced back at the kids, who were the only two who truly knew what was going on.

"You'd two had better go quick," Harry supplied. "They'll get up to Flitwick's office any moment now and find Sirius missing."

Buckbeak tossed his head as if eager to get going, but Sirius hesitated. "What happened to—"

"Ron's in the hospital wing, Pettigrew's long gone, and no one's seen or heard from Lupin since you chased him into the Forest," Regulus replied.

Sirius nodded, but he still hesitated. "You want back or front?" he asked his brother.

"If you put me in the driver's seat no one's going to steer, because I intend to spend this entire trip with my eyes tightly shut, mumbling curses," Regulus answered, shoving his glasses back up his nose.

"Well, get on!" Harry exclaimed.

Regulus clambered up behind Sirius, who still looked shaken from the night's events. He looked back at the two kids. "How can I ever thank—"

"Just go!" Harry and Hermione exclaimed at the same time.

"They've got a bit of a point, Sirius," Regulus mumbled.

"All right." Sirius still turned back to Harry, a little misty-eyed. "You . . . You're truly your dad's son, Harry. . . ." he managed, and then, finally, he spurred Buckbeak, who raced off the tower, spreading his wings and taking off into the sky.

Hogwarts had faded into the background by the time Sirius glanced back at Regulus, who was cautioning himself not to look down and had, of course, just looked towards the ground and instantly regretted it. "Pretty up here, isn't it?" he asked with a grin.

"Oh, shut up."

Sirius shrugged and managed, no doubt with great effort, to resist the urge to continue to torment his little brother. "So, where to?" he asked. "You know Europe better than I do."

Regulus managed a smile, even this high up with no solid ground underneath him. "While I seem to remember you saying you'd kill me if I ever used the phrase again, the south of France really is lovely this time of year, and there are a couple of villages that know me under one pseudonym or another."

Sirius shot Regulus a mock glare for a moment, then lost his composure and laughed. "All right. South of France it is . . . but first we've got to make one more stop in Britain."

**

* * *

Author's Note:** Harry and Dumbledore are the hardest characters for me to write, hands down, and unfortunately this chapter had rather a lot of Harry. . . . Still, you finally found out what happened to Regulus and Peter. Sorry, but there are several canonical things that happened when Peter escaped that are very important and a few more I think may happen in Book 7, so he had to get away. In my original conception for this story, this was the last chapter, and then I realized I couldn't very well leave poor Remus hanging and then I managed to come up with something else for Sirius and Regulus that explained something little in canon I can't believe I'd forgotten. . . . _Anyway_: imakeeper: I hope this answers your question, and if it doesn't, all I can say is that at the end of chapter 16 it was kind of late for Reggie to give a last minute rescue with rat in hand. Jackline: Well, technically a cliffhanger implies that you're going to continue the scene, but you're right, I probably shouldn't have told you 15 was the last one. . . . Mizz Moony Luver: Actually, I was under the impression Dumbledore had been on the lookout for Horcruxes since 1994, when Harry told him Voldemort said he'd been farther along the path to immortality than anyone. Harry just wasn't included in the search until he knew enough, so not until HBP. (shrugs) And to clarify a question asked in 1994: Of course Sirius is going to be in it; however, simply because I have the space in this one, I'm taking advantage of it to fill in bits of Regulus's backstory (okay, a _lot_ of Regulus's backstory) I otherwise wouldn't. And as always, thanks so much to everyone who reviewed! Until next (and last)chapter, Cheers! — Loki 


	18. Another Adventure

Remus Lupin managed with great difficulty not to be too angry with Snape as he packed. It would have happened eventually, anyway— not everyone was as quick as Hermione, after all, but no one was really stupid either. The next person who found out would probably not have been kind enough to cover for him for months. And it was probably better for all involved that he resign now rather than in the middle of the next year.

Besides, Snape had just been outwitted by his three least favorite people left alive, two other teenagers, and a man who, under ordinary circumstances, would probably have been on his side. It was not the sort of thing someone took without revenge, particularly not someone like Snape, and having an old rival off the grounds would certainly make him happier next school year.

He finished packing and reached for the one piece of paper left on his desk. It was the Marauder's Map, and it still had yet to be wiped. Harry was headed in his direction. Remus shook his head and fingered the paper. "I know I really shouldn't," he murmured, smiling wryly.

Harry finally reached the open door of Remus's office, and he looked up when he knocked on the doorframe. "I saw you coming," he remarked, indicating the map.

"I was just talking to Hagrid," Harry announced, a bit breathlessly, as if he had just run all the way to the office. "He said you'd resigned. That's not true, is it?"

"I'm afraid it is," Remus admitted.

Harry stared at him for a moment, then his eyes narrowed as he came to a conceivable conclusion. "The Ministry doesn't think you helped Sirius escape, does it?"

"No, no . . . Dumbledore managed to convince Fudge that I was trying to save your lives. That was the last straw for Severus, I believe. He, erm . . . let it slip that I was a werewolf at breakfast this morning." Remus glanced around, taking one more mental sweep of his office in case there was something he'd forgotten to pack. He didn't see anything, and he'd just finished emptying his drawers.

"That can't be the only reason you're leaving!" Harry exclaimed. "You're the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher we've ever had! Don't go."

Remus smiled and shook his head. "This time tomorrow, Dumbledore's office will be flooded with owls. Parents will not want a werewolf teaching their children. And after last night, I see their point. All it takes is one moment of absentmindedness, from me or from Snape, and I'm a monster loose on the grounds. I could have bitten any of you last night."

"Still—"

"That's enough, Harry," Remus interrupted. He really didn't want to answer any more protests, especially since nothing could change his decision. "Tell me about your Patronus."

"Oh, er— how did you know?"

"What else could have chased the dementors off?" Remus asked with a smile. "You know, if there's anything I'm proud of over this year, it's how much you've learned."

"It was a stag," Harry answered quietly. "A big, silver stag. I think . . . was it my dad? What was his Animagus?"

Remus nodded. "Yes, James was always a stag when he transformed." He hesitated, then handed Harry the Map. "Since I'm no longer your teacher, I no longer feel guilty letting you have this. I daresay you, Ron, and Hermione will find a better use for it than I would."

As he spoke, Dumbledore appeared at the door. "Ah, Remus. . . . Your carriage is ready at the gates."

"Thank you, Headmaster." He glanced between the two and, seeing that they probably had things to say to each other, added, "I can see myself there, sir. Goodbye, Harry. Not for forever, though, I think."

"Bye," Harry conceded, a little forlornly.

Remus smiled wryly as he picked up his trunk and the tank for the water beasts, awkwardly shook Dumbledore's hand, and left the two to their talk. One more year at Hogwarts was more than he could have hoped for after his graduation, but not only had he gotten it, he'd gotten one of his best friends back as well.

* * *

Regulus looked into the shop. It was on the corner of the woods, outside a presumably Muggle village and therefore hopefully spelled to keep them away . . . and to keep the building standing. A grimy sign on the front window had the words "Post Owls" written on it. In the predawn light, he could barely read it.

Regulus looked down at Sirius, who grinned up at him in his dog form. "Are you sure this is the right place?" he asked.

Sirius nodded.

"Really? I could probably go into Magical Menagerie or something in Diagon Alley and not, you know, be leered at or shortchanged or any of the other things people tend to do in shops like this," Regulus pointed out.

The incredulous look Sirius was giving him probably meant he was wondering where you would hide a hippogriff in London.

"Grimmauld," he answered. "Kreacher'd throw a fit, sure, but we're his masters and I could leave the both of you there and go to Diagon Alley without being arrested for helping _you_."

Sirius shook his furry head and, no doubt to prevent more one-sided argument, reared and planted one front paw on the door, pressing down on the handle with the other. It swung open, and he strolled into the shop. Grumbling, Regulus followed him.

The shop was nearly as grimy on the inside as it was on the outside, which Regulus took to be the first bad sign. It was also populated only by a little wizard who sat half-asleep in the back behind the counter. Like the shop, the clerk had undoubtably seen better days. Regulus didn't even see any owls. "Well, perhaps we should come back when they have some actual stock," he told his brother.

The old wizard started. "Wha'?" he asked, then his brain caught up with the conversation. "No, no, we have stock. 'S in the back."

"So that potential customers have to buy blindly?" Regulus asked.

"No, so it don't get stolen. I can take them out for you to look at, if you like."

Regulus fought down most of his sarcasm. The idea was to get an owl, send a letter, and get to France. This formula did not involve getting kicked out of any shop by irritable old clerks who wanted to prove, at six o'clock in the morning, that they didn't _need_ the business of anyone who insulted them. "Please do."

The clerk went into the back to retrieve an owl. Regulus glowered halfheartedly at Sirius, who sat on the ground watching the door with what seemed to be a very self-satisfied smirk. When the man came out with a birdcage, Sirius put his paws on the counter and reared up to take a look.

The clerk jumped backwards, muttering something that sounded an awful lot like "bloody hound."

Regulus couldn't agree more. "Get down." When Sirius ignored him, he tugged on his ruff and thought up a pseudonym. "Snuffles, _get down_."

Sirius dropped to the ground, shooting his brother a look of purest acid.

Regulus took this scant opportunity to actually take a look at the bird. Sirius defiantly put his head on the table if not his paws and fixed his eyes on the owl, who looked rather alarmed and backed slowly to the opposite end of his cage, staring at the dog out of milky eyes. "It looks half dead," Regulus observed. "I'd rather Apparate to Scotland myself to deliver the letter than send that thing."

"Oh, really?" the clerk demanded belligerently.

Regulus sighed. "Do you have anything perhaps a little livelier?" he asked, still trying to be halfway polite.

A progression of four owls later, the increasingly irritated clerk brought out a hyper little grey owl who zoomed about his cage, hooting excitedly. Regulus spent a few minutes staring at it. Not even nocturnal creatures had a right to be that cheerful at six in the morning. They should be preparing for bed. Finally, he said, "That thing's small enough for An— Snuffles here to swallow him whole." For a minute he'd been about to say Anna, but he remembered that his cat was not perched on his shoulder like she had been the last time he'd bargained in a wizarding shop.

The clerk looked at Sirius. "That thing could swallow small children whole," he answered. "Let alone an owl."

Regulus bit back a grin, hoping the clerk hadn't caught Sirius's look of indignant horror. "My cat could swallow it whole, too."

The clerk muttered something that might have involved Sirius eating that cat instead of the small children he evidently breakfasted on. Sirius looked even more affronted. "Look, man, I'm runnin' outta owls. An' 'e's lively, all right."

Regulus looked down at Sirius. "What do you say?" he asked. "He's by far the best we've seen, so do we take him?"

Sirius, no doubt to the clerk's great shock, nodded. He barked, too, no doubt in hopes of distracting from the movement of his head, but it probably didn't work.

"All right, then," Regulus answered, pulling out his wallet. He rifled through it for a moment, then looked up at the clerk a bit sheepishly. "Will you take Muggle money?"

* * *

"Snuffles?" Sirius demanded the moment he was back in human form.

Regulus was still examining the owl they had just bought. "It's six o'clock in the morning," he answered. "My brain was on the fritz and I couldn't think of anything embarrassing." He brushed his hair out of his eyes absently. Both of them desperately needed haircuts again, but Regulus was even less likely to trust Sirius with scissors than his brother was him, so he was going to wait until they got to France. After all, cutting his own hair was at best a quick fix of last resort.

"Still, _Snuffles_?"

"You know, he seriously overcharged me for this owl," Regulus said absently. "That wouldn't have happened in Diagon Alley. I could have gone to Gringotts and exchanged pounds for Galleons."

"You could have called me Padfoot," Sirius grumbled.

"And he looks like a decent owl for across town flights, if you can put up with bouncing," Regulus continued, ignoring his brother. "But still, I don't know that he could make it to Scotland. . . ."

"I said, you could have called me Padfoot," Sirius repeated.

Regulus sighed. Sirius was like a dog with a bone when he was irritated, which might explain his Animagus. "Maybe I will in France. Or" —he flashed a grin at his brother, even though Sirius just scowled back— "I'll maybe just stick with Snuffles, since it irritates you so much. You used to tell me never to call you Padfoot, too, you know. That was the point at which I knew we'd definitely lost you to the Marauders."

"You didn't loose me, I lost you," Sirius grumbled, "and I thought good riddance at the time. I'm still not sure whether I do or don't now."

Regulus smiled and shook his head.

"D'you have paper, by any chance?" Sirius added.

Regulus pulled out a _Daily Prophet _clipping and wiped it clean with his wand.

"How about ink and a quill?" Sirius added.

Regulus raised an eyebrow and looked down at his jacket. "Just how big do my pockets _look,_ Sirius?" he demanded, mock irritably.

"It was a yes or no question, Reggie."

Regulus conjured them both out of the air with his wand and went back to examining the owl and hoping that it had more to it than at first glance. Sirius scribbled his letter for the next ten minutes. "Do you have a second piece of paper?" he asked after reaching the end of the first one.

Regulus wiped a second clipping blank and handed it to him. "Is it really that long?" he asked.

Sirius rolled his eyes and scribbled a second note. "Envelope?"

Regulus actually had one of those. He pulled it out and tossed it to Sirius. Then he reached into the cage and caught the owl, who struggled in his grip, apparently eager to get back to zipping around. Regulus wished he had half as much energy.

Sirius tied the letter to the owl's leg. "He'll probably be on the Hogwarts Express when you get there," he told him. "It's to go to Harry Potter, all right? Don't give it to anyone else."

The owl nodded and zipped off. "Snuffles," Sirius muttered again, turning back to Regulus, who grinned and shrugged.

"Get back on Buckbeak and let's get to France," Regulus suggested.

Sirius shook his head and swung aboard. "Another wonderful adventure in living together, I suppose," he mumbled.

Regulus's grin widened as he got onto Buckbeak behind his brother. "Well, adventure's certainly the right word," he replied as Sirius spurred Buckbeak into the sky again.

**--  
****Author's Note:** Wow . . . that's the end of one, making this the longest fan fic I've ever finished. Anyway, it's been one heck of a ride, folks, and I'm glad you all could join me for it. 1994 should be up in either next week or the week after that, depending on whether or not I get where I want to be this weekend.

Obviously, now that 1993's over, I've got people to thank: First and foremost, my beta **Pam**, who caught so many typos, at least two large problems, and put up with all of my insecurities and rewrites. And also, of course, my reviewers: **Gabwr**, who offered encouragement every step of the way, and **imakeeper **and **SupportSeverusSnape**, who practically also did so. To **Jackline**, who whether she'll realize it or not asked just the right questions to considerably strengthen part of 1994, and **Mizz Moony Luver**, who got me thinking about a part of 1996 I really should have been thinking about sooner (and who frequently made me laugh). **Gwinna**, who's comments always assured me I was on the right track, and **Isis Flamewing**, who gave me things to think about when I get around to smoothing some of this over. Last but not least, thanks to **snapesmistress-in-law, Daydreaming Git, Arianna Malfoy, Mrs. Sniffy, jekl, Trinity Day, Dream Phantom, horn-head, LastOfTheSummerWine, YinYangDreams, CTMalone, Padfoot2446, perrinette, ems25, MissLinuxthePenguin, ave-adore, Twisted Truth, Nocturnal007, Delilah Evans, peppymint, Boleyn, Aria7, gatermage, Padfoot in Purple, Quiescent Vengeance, anonymous, asdfjk;l, Lily Hermione Potter,** and **scarlet dreamer** for offering me encouragement and/or advice somewhere along the way. I really have appreciated every bit of it! Until 1994, Cheers! — Loki


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